


War in a distant land

by courgette96



Series: Lords of Wild Space [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Force Chocking, Hux and Kylo could get a room, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kylo would punch a girl, M/M, Mind Rape, Public Display of Affection, Rated E for future smut, Scheming and Politics, Slave Kylo, Smut, Threat of torture, Violence, Warlord Hux, but they choose not to, dubiously healthy relationships, from Lady Hux, political scheming, romantisation of slavery, warlord au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-07-28 10:52:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 54,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7637287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courgette96/pseuds/courgette96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As negotiations with the Republic come to an end, Hux and Kylo look forward to never seeing the delegates again. The Supreme Warlord will rule over the Outer Rim, and Kylo will serve at his side.</p><p>Their plans are completely derailed when a new crisis emerges, one that forces them to defend their place in the Rim and work with the Republic they so despise.</p><p>Meanwhile, Leia will do all that she can to save her son from the man who keeps him as a slave, and bring him back to his true home. </p><p>Set right after  "In Uncertain Lands"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hux I

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, the prompt system backfired completely, and I now have a multi chaptered fic. Hehe.
> 
> You don't need to read every one shot in this series, but since this takes place right after In Uncertain Lands I think it would be better if you read that one shot first.
> 
> I honestly hadn't planned on this when I first started this AU, but here we are! This fic will be a long one, so I may update slowly at first in order to build up a chapter buffer. It will still be more than once a month though.
> 
> Betad by the amazing Wren_ofthewildwood, who volunteered for a few one-shots and ended up with this instead. ^^

Though finally coming to the end of three days of negotiations with the Republic was a relief, Hux thought, packing away a temporary settlement was always hard work. Servants and soldiers alike were carrying packages and tents to their assigned cargo shuttle. The few technicians brought along were doing some final security checks on Hux’s ships. Though his fleet may very well be the best in the Outer Rim, it was still largely made of older models and repurposed smuggling vessels. It made for an eclectic ensemble of various sizes and colors; part of Hux lamented the lack of a cohesive look, but ah well. Practicality primed above all else.

The chaotic look of his fleet didn’t stop him from feeling pride whenever he laid eyes upon it. Every ship had been a bounty, a gift, a tribute of good faith sometimes. Every additional vessel was a testament to his growing army, and thus his growing power.

He had once been a four-year-old child, hastily shoved on an over packed evacuation shuttle. Look at him now.

He was overlooking the loading of the final packages when he felt familiar arms wrap around his waist. Without turning back, he leaned into the embrace, smiling as he felt a familiar toned chest pressed against his back.

“Is that the ship we stole from Plutt?” Kylo asked, resting his chin on Hux’s shoulder.

“You know it is,” Hux chided gently. “Besides, we did not steal it. It was ours from the moment we seized Jakku.”

“That was hardly a conquest,” Kylo commented. He turned his head to nuzzle against Hux’s ear, pressing a kiss at the corner of his jaw. “No one had claimed that sandpit when we got there.”

That was true; other warlords didn’t have Hux’s foresight. All it took was undermining Plutt for Hux’s authority to be recognized, and all it took was offering a place aboard his ships for scavengers to come rushing to join his army. Resourceful people who knew their way around machinery

But Hux didn’t say any of that, for he knew Kylo knew it already. Instead, he tilted his head to the side, exposing more of his neck to Kylo’s insistent nips. “Were you disappointed?” he cooed. “I’ve given you plenty of opportunity for battle.”

“I like fighting for you,” Kylo murmured against his skin. “I like the way you look at me when I do.” He smiled. “I like the way you look at me when I come back.”

Hux grinned. “My ruthless hound,” he whispered, before pulling Kylo into a kiss.

It was an awkward angle, Hux’s neck bent backward to claim Kylo’s lips, Kylo hunched over him with his arms still wrapped around it. But Hux loved it, loved the way Kylo moaned ever so slightly, pulling him closer against him even as Hux pulled on the back of his neck.

Loved the way Kylo nipped at his lip as he pulled away, making Hux’s breath hitch and his knees wobble.

Kylo smiled at him, before his eyes darted to the side. He chuckled. “They watch too.”

Hux turned his head ever so slightly to look at the group of Republican delegates. Many of them were pointedly not looking at them out of prudishness. Others had no such qualms after three days spent in their company, and only looked mildly annoyed.

Hux chuckled as well, pulling away from Kylo as he did so. “I should go see them before we leave. I will be right there.”

With a nod, Kylo left towards Hux’s spaceship, while Hux made his way towards the delegates.

“Senators,” he greeted as he approached them, taking no small amount of satisfaction in the way some stiffened at his approach. “As we’ve discussed, my fleet will take you to Vasch, after which you will be able to return to your own personal shuttles. I trust you have all been instructed as to which shuttle you have been assigned?”

“We have,” Telana answered stiffly. As the designated leader of the Republic delegates, she had been the one Hux had had the most dealings with. She was also the one Hux was the most eager to see leave: though she had behaved with nothing but pristine politeness and professionalism, there was an undercurrent of aggressive antipathy in all her words. It was enough to make him wonder just why she had been trusted to be part of the delegation at all.

Of course, Organa had been just as hostile towards him during the past couple of days, but in her case the reason why was much more understandable.

“Good, then.” He nodded. “I trust there are no objections?”

“We have one amendment, Supreme Warlord.” Telana lips pursed in distaste as she spoke his title – and Hux did agree it was something of a mouthful – but she continued without missing a beat. “Senator Organa and I have decided it would be for the best if she were to travel on your vessel, whilst I embarked on Captain Phasma’s ship.”

Hux raised an eyebrow. “Is there a reason for that change?”

“Do you object?” Telana challenged stonily. Behind her, Organa’s face was a blank mask save for the intense scrutiny in her eyes.

Hux sneered ever so slightly. Though his mother had often tried to teach him how to be unreadable in all circumstances, it seemed his face was simply too skilled at expressing distaste for him to rid himself of that particular mimic.

He had no desire to have Organa on his ship, but to admit as much would be akin to admit feeling threatened by her. After three days largely spent showing the Republic just how little he feared them, to back down now would be so very humiliating.

Still, the thought of having her anywhere near him, or more specifically near Kylo, made his skin crawl. The only consolation was that his enforcer would be just as displeased as he was.

“Of course not,” he finally said with a stiff and insincere smile. “If there is nothing else?”

There wasn’t, and soon enough both he, Organa and Dameron were making their way towards his ship, while the rest were dispatched between Phasma and Rodinon. Kylo was waiting for him near the entrance, and his expression soured visibly when he spotted his mother.

He shot Hux a glare, and Hux answered with a stern look.

Kylo huffed, and followed him in.

He escorted his guest to a room in the middle deck. It was the most luxurious ones in the ship, the one he used to entertain whatever influential personality needed buttering up. It looked very little like the inside of a spaceship, with the vibrant tapestries, many cushions and wooden furniture. Cigara and wine were a permanent fixture. There was even a box of Namana candy laid out for the more decadent of his guests, though he highly doubted Organa would partake in that particular vice.

The four of them sat down, Organa and Dameron side by side on one couch, Hux and Kylo in their own chair. No one talked; instead, both parties were eyeing the other appraisingly; or in Kylo’s case, moodily.

The tense silent was cut off by the pilot clearing his throat.

“Sooo,” Dameron started tentatively, looking around to gauge everyone’s reaction. “An AEG-77 Vigo; haven’t seen a ship like that in ages. They’re usually decommissioned.”

“By the New Republic’s standards, maybe,” Hux answered, his voice betraying nothing but the utmost politeness. “The Outer Rims cannot be so picky.”

“Yeah, well, I think it’s great. These older models have a much more stable navigation system.”

“I’m sure.”

“You ever learned how to fly them, Ben?”

“Don’t call me that!” Kylo snapped, not even looking at Dameron. Instead, his entire focus was directed on some spot on the wall to his left.

“It’s your name.”

Organa had said that quietly, yet her voice cut through the air, making Kylo recoil from the impact. He clenched his jaw, and met her steady gaze with a fiery one.

“No, it isn’t,” he gritted out slowly. “Not anymore.”

“You call yourself Kylo Ren. Who gave you that name?” she challenged. She jerked her head towards Hux, not even deigning to look at the warlord. “Was it him?”

“I chose it for myself. I’m not Ben Solo anymore.”

“You’ll always be my son.”

“Your son,” Kylo spat out, “was an unwanted slave passed around from one slaver to the next, collared and chained. I’m more than that now.”

“You’re still shackled, Ben.”

Kylo recoiled at that, livid. “You don’t understand,” he hissed. The words were childish, but his demeanor wasn’t. He spoke with such certitude that it was impossible to object to his statement. Organa didn’t even try.

That moment of dignity was quickly passed though, as he turned towards Hux with his more customary sullen anger. “I didn’t want her here!” he exclaimed, eyes full of accusation.

Hux laid back into his chair. “Neither did I.”

“Then why did you…” Kylo started, before cutting himself off with a growl. He stood up abruptly and inelegantly, and spoke his next words in an angry mumble. “I’m going to the lower deck.”

“Please, do,” Hux drawled. “I’m certain the crew will appreciate the company.”

With a sullen glare, Kylo turned on his heels and stomped out of the room.

Organa watched him go with a visibly saddened expression while Dameron was looking at her with clear concern. He leaned forward to whisper something in her ear; Hux didn’t care to know what.

Organa answered back just as quietly. With a nod, the pilot stood up, and turned to address Hux. “With your permission, Supreme Warlord, I’m going to check out the pilot cabin. Never one to pass up on looking over a new ship.”

Hux gave him permission with the wave of a hand. The intent behind the sudden desire was obvious, but Hux found he didn’t mind.

If Organa wished to speak to him alone, then he would indulge her.

The Senator didn’t speak immediately after her companion left. Instead, she looked at him with narrowed eyes. Hux could only imagine what conclusions she was coming to; none of them positive, she was sure.

There was a certain thrill in being so disliked by. The woman who brought down the Empire, who had been the cause of his parents’ exile. Who knows what his life would have been like, if it hadn’t been for her?

Probably nothing nearly as grand. He would have been the bastard son of an officer; Lady Hux would have most likely never accepted him as her own. Who knows what opportunities he might have been denied then?

It was for that reason that he did not resent the fall of the Empire. That bitterness had been so very present in the previous generation, had trickled down into the current one; it was why Thanisson had been so outraged to see him negotiate with the Republic. Hux himself had little interest on holding a grudge over an event he barely even remembered.

No, Hux’s intense dislike of her stemmed from a far more personal level.

“I do wonder when you will give up on this endeavor of yours,” he finally said, affecting nonchalance and knowing she wasn’t fooled for a second.

“And what endeavor would that be?” she asked, voice calm and eyes cold. “Speaking to my son?”

“Yes,” Hux answered simply. “If you thought closed quarters would prevent him from avoiding you, you underestimate the depths of his pettiness.” 

“I know how he can get. I raised him.”

Hux chuckled condescendingly. “For what, eleven years? I’ve known him for nearly as long, and my vision of him isn’t as pathetically outdated as yours.”

“And how do you view him, Hux?” Organa spat out his name with all the contempt in her being. Her fists were clenched around the fabric of her pants, trembling as if they were holding most of her anger at bay. “As your pet? Your attack dog? Your _toy_?”

Hux smirked. “All of the above.”

Organa ignored the jab. “My son is more than that. More than _property_.” She drew herself taller, cloaking herself in righteousness. Her next words were spoken like a vow. “I am certain you know of my position towards slavery. Having my son subjected to the practice will only make me fight harder on his behalf.”

Hux stiffened at those last words. They brought mental image of Leia _liberating_ Kylo, and Kylo thanking her for it. Of Kylo leaving, cursing his name and denouncing him.

Kylo leaving.

He clenched his jaw, swallowing a hiss.

That would _never_ happen.

“And what results have your efforts wielded so far?” he spat out. “The slave trade is still standing; it is how I found him in the first place. Or will you call upon the war as an excuse? Too busy fighting some Force user with a silly name to act on your self-righteousness?”

Leia stiffened at the mention of Snoke, but it wasn’t much of a victory.

Mention of the Force user brought back images of Kylo, face pale from fear and lack of sleep. Of screaming matches and tense silences. The terrifying realization that he was so very close to losing one of the few things he was unwilling to sacrifice.

Hux hadn’t been the one to kill Snoke, a fact he direly regretted.

Still, he was very, very glad that the man was dead.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said with finality, chasing the thought out of his mind. “He’s mine, Organa.”

“He doesn’t have to be. He has a choice now.”

“To be yours instead?”

“To be free.” She met his cold glare with one of her own. “To come back home.”

 “He has chosen,” Hux said slowly, leaning forward as he did so, “or have you missed him storming out? Or perhaps you think you know better than him?”

“I -”

“Supreme Warlord!” a voice said from the com, the slight crackle of well-used tech ending each sentence. “This is Co-Pilot Chro reporting. Our radars are detecting five unknown ships approaching our fleet.”

Hux got up straight away, ignoring the frustration radiating off Organa as he ignored her completely. He made his way towards the opposite wall, pressing on the switch to keep the comlink open. “Received, Co-Pilot. Describe them to me.”

“Unknown for certain without full visual,” Chro answered quickly, her voice steady and professional, “but radar outline suggests a CR70 for capital ship, two GR-75s and two small bombers.”

“Unusually large,” Hux commented. “Open full communication between all ships of the fleet. Prepare for defensive measures if necessary.”

“Yes, sir.”

Satisfied, Hux turned towards his previous interlocutor, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “My apologies, Organa. As lovely as the conversation was, I will have to put it on hold.”

With that, he stepped out of the well-furnished room into more Spartan corridors, heading straight for the elevator at the end of the hall. He was displeased, but not altogether surprised when Organa followed him. It was a good thing for her that he had better things to do than waste energy trying to chase her away.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal the command deck. As he stepped in, the two soldiers manning the consoles slid into a salute, while the pilots remained focused on their course. Dameron was there too, and like the loyal dog he was quickly by Organa’s side, whispering low in her ear.

Ignoring all of them, Hux made his way towards the holodesk at the center of the room. When he activated it, he was satisfied to note that his orders had already been carried out. “Escort squad,” he says as he looks over the different readings, “adopt second formation. Be ready for an offensive strike on my command. Captain Phasma, report.”

“This is Phasma, reporting.”

“Watch over our Republic guests. Odds are that these are pirates have heard of the meeting, and hope to seize a hostage or two. I’m going to need you and your men to be ready to fight should any of them somehow manage to board your ship.”

“Of course sir. Should I transfer some troops to your ship?”

“Kylo is here, I doubt it will be -”

His words were cut off by a loud, crashing noise, followed shortly by the entire frame of the spaceship shaking.

Loose objects fell to the floor, one of his men stumbled and had to catch himself on a console to remain upright. Organa yelps, more in surprise than true fear, and Dameron drew out his blaster out of reflex.

Hux had caught himself on the holodesk, and hadn’t looked up as he recalculated the situations.

Not pirates. It couldn’t be, the enemy fleet was much too far away for that. No pirate had access to the sort that sort of technology for the past five years.

But in that same logic, no ship should have been powerful enough to damage one of Hux’s. He had made sure to have monopoly on any worthwhile spacecraft.

Except he obviously _hadn’t,_ because there were _five_ ships out there ready to strike him down and he didn’t even know who they were.

“Pfassk!” he grit out, roughly brushing away the hair that fell in front his eyes. “Lower deck, damage report!”

A meek, slightly panicked voice sounded through the coms not one second later. “This is First Technician Mat, reporting. Our shields have taken most of the hit, but the hull suffered from 5% structural damage. Defense turrets have already begun retaliation.”

Hux grit his teeth. “Good. This ship is too big for efficient maneuvering, so make sure the defenses hold!”

“Hux! What is happening?”

That was Kylo, who had come rushing through the lift, his vibroblade in hand. Touching gesture, absolutely pointless: who was he going to stab here?

“How about you use the Force to figure it out?” Hux spat out, not looking away from his command desk. “Escort squad, you best not have waited for my command to start shooting!”

“No, sir!” one of his pilot answered. Hux could hear in the background the sound of blasters being fired at will. “We have begun retaliation, focusing on the two bombers!”

“There are five of you and two of them,” Kylo yelled from the back of the room, more in anger than out of a true concern to be heard. “You haven’t gotten them out of the way already?”

“Sir!” the pilot protested, addressing Hux. “Enemy ships are faster than we are used to, and in a better state!”

What?

Hux swallowed a curse. “Give me full visual of the target.”

“Yes, sir.”

The image came up on the screen not a second later.

“Pfassk.”

The fleet was made of shining, pristine ships, one that obviously had never been used before. No rust, nor at scratch to be seen. It was an almost absurd look in what was clearly supposed to be a battle ship; Hux had never seen anything like it, at least not in the Outer Rim, where nearly every vessel was second hand or one in a bet. All its major ship-building centers had been under the complete control of the Empire, and thus had fallen apart shortly after the battle of Endor.

Yet obviously, someone had access to this quality of vessel, and it was imperative that Hux figure out who.

It couldn’t be the Hutts, he had killed all of them. Not his own men, like the rebellious Thanisson, he didn’t own this sort of vessel. Pirates he’d already counted out. Whatever small systems that weren’t under his control he had completely cut off from the rest of the Rim, so they couldn’t possibly build trading routes strong enough to support this kind of industry. No, a ship in this state could only ever be found…

In the Core worlds.

The Republic.

Hux hissed.

Kylo looked over his shoulder, eyes narrowing at the sight before him. It was clear to Hux that he had come to the same conclusion. “Those kriffing…”

“Phasma,” Hux shouted, unwilling to waste time by letting listening to Kylo’s rant, “lead the retreat of carrier ships. You get to Vasch, and you stay there! Every Senator is to be kept under close surveillance until further notice! No one is permitted off until I say so!”

Even as he spoke the orders, he heard Kylo stomp behind him, making his way towards the two Republic delegates that were at hand.

“You!” he roared accusingly. “What did you do?!”

Organa was speaking loudly as well, as placating as possible while still standing up to an angry Force user. “Ben, I don’t know-”

“Hey, Ben,” Dameron protested at the same time, “easy there, you-”

“Kylo! Not now!” Hux snapped. He didn’t need the background noise. “Escort squad,” he stated clearly, addressing his troops once more, “have Starfighter 2,3 and 5 focus on taking out the bombers. Starfighter 1 and 4 give cover fire for the retreating ships. We will be retreating through hyperspace once their fastest are taken out, so be ready for it!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Hux!” Kylo yelled, walking up to him in an effort to catch his attention. “You saw the ships, Hux! You know the Republic is behind this!”

“Yes,” Hux agreed curtly, “but if you’re going to kill Organa, I rather you not do it in the middle of the battle.”

“The Republic has nothing to do with this!” Organa’s outrage was genuine; in that moment, she was not only defending herself but the entire institution she stood for. “Why would we attack a fleet with our own Senators on it?!”

Hux finally turned around at that, with a sharp, humorless laugh and a cold glare. “You tell me.”

The two of them locked eyes for a moment, both of them glaring at the other for thousands of reasons beyond this disagreement.

It only lasted a moment though, as Hux had to focus on the battle once more. On the holoscreen, he could see his ships swirl to avoid the swarm of blasters, until one of his more daring pilots came close enough to a bomber to land a direct hit on the weaker part of its left wing.

The enemy ship quickly lost balance, and like a swarm the rest of his ships pounced upon it.

Four of the ships fired shot after shot after shot, until the second wing was destroyed as well.

From there, it wasn’t long until the spacecraft was completely destroyed.

Smiling in grim satisfaction as he spoke into the com. “All ships, prepare for hyperspace jump. Starship 1 and 4, drop cover fire. Focus on taking the last bomber down.”

They took another hit then, one that drowned out what answer his troops might have given.

It was no matter though, because the enemy ship’s aim had been off, and his shields had defused the damage. Hux didn’t let it distract him as he gazed at the screen.

Finally, the second bomber was taken down.

“Now!” he screamed.

In a second, the world turned white.

And then quiet.

Around him, a few of his offers mumbled their relief. The battle suddenly seemed very far behind, though it had happened seconds ago.

When he received confirmation that they were not being pursued, Hux finally exhaled.

“Kylo,” he called out, straightening himself, “escort Dameron and Organa to the lower decks. Keep them confined there until further notice.”

“You can’t-” Organa started, only to be cut off by Kylo’s impatient huff.

“He can. Go, or I’ll make you.”

Organa looked at her son, a knowing look on her face that did more to grate Hux’s nerves than any righteous indignation could. “You don’t have to treat me this way, Ben.”

“I won’t if you comply,” Kylo snapped back. “Now go.”

For one moment, it seemed as if Organa would stand her ground, staring into Kylo’s eyes with both pain and resolve. That moment was quickly passed though as common sense reasserted itself. With one final glare towards Hux, she began to walk away

Hux closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Good work, officers,” he said as calmly as he could. “We will continue as initially planned.”

“Yes, sir,” the deck answered in one voice. No one said anything more as Hux left the bridge.

He quickly made his way through the middle deck, ignoring the room he had been in with Organa in favor of a smaller, more private one. The inside of it was less lavish than the other, but it still held a few comforts: plush chairs and a couch, two dark rugs on the floor, a liquor cabinet that was very well stocked.

Hux eyes that last one with longing, before reluctantly turning away. The content of that cabinet was much too luxurious to drink in bitterness.

Instead, he sat down in the couch, and looked out the window. The darkness of space, interrupted with the occasional star or passing nebula, was soothing in its own way. It helped him think.

The last retreat he had ordered had been five years ago, and that one had been far more calculated. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been caught so off guard.

That it had happened at all left a bitter taste in his mouth, one that not even his fine liquor could wash away – though the more he thought of this near-debacle, the more he was inclined to try.

Instead, he tried to focus his frustration into more productive thoughts.

Loathe as he was to say it, Organa was right: it didn’t make sense for the Republic to attack him. Certainly not when several high-profile Senators were on his fleet, and on an even larger scale certainly not right after signing a treaty. Hux was no stranger to subterfuge, but it was entirely pointless to spend several days coming to an agreement only to break it within the next hours. Either don’t waste the energy, or wait until the treaty has brought some amount of profit before going back on the deal.

No, the Republic wasn’t behind this.

So who attacked him, then?

Whoever had been in charge of that fleet hadn’t had exact information on his location. If they had, the ships would have left hyperspace seconds before attacking, rather than roam the area long enough for his radars to pick up on them. Either that, or they had poor pilots, but Hux hadn’t gotten this far assuming incompetence in his enemies.

So, whoever it was knew he would be in the area, meaning that he knew both about the meeting and where it would be held. Neither of those were common knowledge, so the obvious answer would be that they had inside information. Given the state of their fleet, it was more than likely that that information had come from the Republic.

Hux bit back a frustrated sigh.

All of that he had already guessed, even if he hadn’t formulated quite so clearly. And all that deduction was useless to him if he couldn’t pinpoint the exact source of the leak.

How many from the Republic knew in which system the meeting was to be held?

He needed to find out.

He heard the door open, and turned his head to find Kylo enter the room. His Enforcer paused halfway into the room, before pausing and giving Hux a critical look.

Hux looked back, raising an eyebrow.

With a shake of his head, Kylo made his way towards the liquor cabinet, taking out a vile of Corillian rum. With the Outer Rim’s increased isolation over the years combined with the Core world’s diminished trade, that particular bottle was priceless in these regions.

Kylo filled a glass nearly to the brim, and brought it back to Hux.

Wordlessly, he extended his arm, and Hux took the drink with only a modicum of protest.

“I had been trying not to drink,” he murmured as he took a sip.

Kylo sat down next to him, and took the glass from Hux’s hand. “Your mother didn’t give you this so that you could look at it,” he argued back as he brought it to his lips.

“She didn’t give it to me so that I could drown my sorrows in alcohol.”

“You’re not so much of a lightweight that one glass would do much for you. Now shut up and enjoy the rum.”

“Alright then,” Hux answered softly, reaching over to take another sip.

The two of them sat in silence, passing each other the glass as they slowly emptied it. Every now and then, Kylo would look at him intently, obviously wanting to say something, and waiting for Hux to notice.

Hus said nothing, knowing his lover would grow impatient eventually.

Kylo didn’t disappoint.

“Why didn’t you let me board them?” he finally asked. “I could have killed them, ended it right now.”

“You don’t know there weren’t more behind,” Hux answered back somewhat impatiently. He had been perfectly content drinking in silence with Kylo, and had no desire to breach the topic of the battle so soon. “Besides, what would you have boarded them with? The escape pod?”

“It could have worked.”

“You’re not that good a pilot.”

“I could have used the Force.”

“You’re not that skilled with the Force.”

“Well, what the kriff would you know!” Kylo snapped.

Being the Enforcer of the Supreme Warlord had done away with most of Ben’s insecurities, but he was still so very touchy whenever it came to his limitations with the Force. Self-taught and undisciplined, he wielded it like a blunt instrument rather than the delicate tool it could be.

In normal times, Hux had very little patience with cajoling him. Just after an unforeseen attack by an unknown force, he had none. “I would know because you are _mine,_ ” he hissed, finally turning to face Kylo so that his slave could see just how thin the ice he was on was. “You are mine, and your abilities are mine, and every tool I have I know the measure of. And I do not appreciate it when they _question my judgement._ ”

Kylo clenched his jaw, then turned his head with a hiss. Though Hux’s eyes were still trained on him, Kylo refused to meet his gaze. Instead, he glared at the steel wall, silently fuming in hurt anger.

Repressing a sigh, Hux pinched his brow. He shouldn’t have snapped like that. Not only was it woefully unproductive, but it also gave fuel to Kylo’s frustration, which more than likely equaled his own.

If he believed letting Kylo loose on a couple ships would solve this problem, he would do it without a moment’s hesitation. But he didn’t know what weapons were on board – and given what they had seen, it was more than likely that they would be superior to his own. He didn’t know how many men were inside that ship, didn’t know what backup might have been on the way.

Hux was no coward, but he was not reckless. There were too many unknowns to launch an attack. He couldn’t risk it.

Couldn’t risk Kylo.

He glanced again at his lover, who was still silently fuming in hurt pride.

They were alone on the bridge, so slowly, Hux scooted close to him. His arm reached out around his back, hand setting itself around his waist. Gently, he tugged him closer, until Kylo gave in with a sigh and rested his head against Hux’s shoulder.

Hux smiled slightly, and let his hand rise to stroke Kylo’s hair. It took a ridiculous amounts of effort to keep the locks soft and glossy as they were, considering the rarity of the products and their general living conditions. Hux considered it well worth the effort – and really, what was the point of conquering the Outer Rim if you couldn’t indulge in opulence from time to time?

Stroking his fingers through the black locks, he felt Kylo melt against him. Satisfactory, to be sure, but he knew it didn’t mean that Kylo’s mind was any less troubled by recent events.

His certainly wasn’t.

“The delegates will be rounded up when we land,” he said, voice soft and tone hard. “If anyone of them knows anything, will you be able to tell me?”

“Yes,” Kylo promised. “If their surface thoughts don’t tell me, I’ll rip their minds apart.”

The two of them had been testing Kylo’s mind-reading abilities for a few years now. Without any formal training, and no master who would teach him, Kylo had a difficult time holding back whenever he attempted that particular form of interrogation. Consequently, he either learned what he wanted from the very surface thoughts, those he required no effort to hear, or he delved into his victims minds with the same brutality he did all things, usually leaving them drooling wastes by the end of it.

It was a shame that he never improved over the years. The higher they rose, the less enemies they had, and therefore the less opportunities for practice he had. Hux was utterly unwilling to lend his own men for the exercise.

“I’d be inclined to let you break every single one of them,” he said, thinking of Organa in particular. “But just in case, we might need them functional.”

“All of them?”

Hux laughed quietly at that, and could feel Kylo hide a smile in the crook of his neck.

With a hum, he gently tugged on Kylo’s hair, just enough to get the other man to raise his head and look at him in the eyes. Kylo’s smile mirrored his own as Hux brought his hand to Kylo’s cheek, guiding his head forward for a kiss. Kylo leaned into it, moaning softly as he wrapped his arms around Hux’s waist, pulling him closer still.

When they broke apart, both of them were still smiling. Without letting go of his hold, Kylo let his head rest against Hux’s shoulder. The warlord resumed combing his fingers through black hair.

The rest of the trip went by fairly quickly after that. Soon enough, they heard through the coms that landing was imminent.

Hux reluctantly tore himself out of Kylo’s arms, and went up to the upper deck to make necessary arrangements. Kylo didn’t bother getting up at all, not until the ship had well and truly landed and opened its doors.

When they set foot on the planet, all the delegates had been rounded up in one of the smaller buildings, a storage facility that had been cleared out to host both the Republic party and the soldiers tasked with keeping them under control.

“Shall I give you time to sort through them?” Hux asked as they approached the group. Some of the Senators were crying out in outrage, others were somber and calculating. A few were looking at Hux’s soldiers with visible fear – Hux mentally crossed those ones off the suspects list.

When Kylo failed to answer, he turned towards him only to find his enforcer looking straight ahead with narrowed eyes. Then he stiffened, hissed a swear under his breath.

“No need,” he spat out, his anger reasserting itself once more.

Before Hux could even react he was off, stalking towards the group with heavy stomps, pushing a ---- delegate that didn’t even dare make a sound in protest. His hand shot out, spread out fingers slowly curling into a squeeze. Around him, the air crackled with energy, and his lips pulled back into a sneer as his victim began to grab at her throat.

Calmly following behind, Hux suppressed a sigh. He certainly didn’t object to the gesture, but he certainly hoped Kylo had the good sense to leave enough of an airflow to prevent the Senator from passing out.

He came to a stop when he reached Kylo’s side. Aware of the many eyes on him, he put his arms behind his back, standing tall and proud and bearing a look that had made many of his soldiers cower.

“My Enforcer seems to believe you are to blame for all this,” he said in a flat tone that betrayed none of his glee at seeing Telana claw at her throat with increased panic. “For your sake, I suggest you begin to talk.”

 


	2. Leia I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after a month of work, I now have a buffer of one chapter and a half, more or less. Still can't say how frequently I'll update for sure, though I am looking at a once every three weeks rythm.
> 
> I don't know if this chapter was worth the wait, but at least there are Leia feels involved! ^^
> 
> Special thanks to Wren_ofthewildwood, who helped A LOT with this chapter. She is too good for this world, too pure.

In Leia’s entire life, there was no more horrible moment than the one where Han told her over a comlink that he had lost Ben.

There was nothing that could match the Universe dying in cold ice around her, the entire world fading to the voice in her ear and the mute presence in the Force, the budding of hysterical hope that her son could be found even as ruthless realism was already trying to choke it.

She had been the daughter of a family opposed to a tyrannical regime.

She had been a prisoner of war, and certain that it would be her death.

She had seen that family destroyed along with the rest of her home-planet, all on Vader’s command.

And she had lost her son.

Years later, Leia still stood by that statement: nothing had ever been worse than when she first heard the news through a broken down comlink. Because Ben had been with his father, Ben was supposed to be safe, and the Galaxy had been at peace and nothing had made sense anymore.

But seeing Ben, her Ben, dressed in black, hands stretched out before him in an oh-so-familiar choking hold, seeing him stand beside a cold hearted man with sharp eyes and a cruel gaze…

That may very well be a close second.

Ben’s black eyes burned with intense focus, anger making them shine as he looks at his victim. Telana was gasping for breath, her mouth open in a silent heave. Her dark skin turned darker still as blood rushed to her face.

And Ben wasn’t stopping.

He wasn’t stopping, and Leia could barely comprehend such casual cruelty coming from the little boy who had hugged her goodbye and promised her to bring back a souvenir. (The boy who had hugged her so eagerly once, and who now refused to even touch her.)

“Stop!” she demanded, putting years of authority as a princess and as a Senator behind her voice.

But Ben ignored her, and Hux gave no order for him to relent, so she did something only someone with much experience dealing with Force users would dare: she grabbed Ben by his arm, tugging at it, and yelled.

“Ben, stop it right now!”

It worked, somewhat. Ben’s attention wavered long enough for Telana to gulp in some air in noisy, ugly gasps. Leia heard her fall to the ground, and heard footsteps of Senators as they hurried to help her up, but couldn’t look to see for herself.

She couldn’t, because Ben’s furious eyes were locked onto hers, and it was like locking gaze with a reckless predator; in that moment, she didn’t know what would happen if she looked away.

In the back of her mind, the image of the same set of eyes, but younger and so filled with love, was forming; she killed it before it could be fully form.

She couldn’t let herself think of that. Not right now.

“Stay out of this, Organa,” Hux ordered from behind her. He slowly made his way to stand by Ben, face hard. “Otherwise I might consider the entire Republic responsible.”

“It isn’t, and you know it,” Leia retorted. She finally looked away from her son to look the warlord square in the eye. She spoke her next words with the same cold threat that Hux had given her. “But if _you_ continue, then we might just consider this an act of war against the Republic. And how much worse will the situation be for you then?” She lifted her chin in defiance.

“Organa!” Someone cried out from behind her – the Senator from Mon Calamari, she recognized the voice. No protest followed after her name though, so she assumed he was only protesting for the form of it. It was reckless for one single Senator to threaten Hux.

It was also the only way to defuse the situation; she was sure of it.

Hux’s eyes narrowed, more in displeasure than in true scrutiny. He waved his hand, and Kylo’s fist unclenched itself.

Telana fell to the ground, coughing and wheezing.

“She is guilty of something,” Hux said stonily, not even looking at the gasping Senator. “That much is obvious.”

Leia stood firm. “I won’t allow you to torture her for information.”

“Hardly torture,” Hux said dismissively. “She won’t talk out of her own volition.”

And he was right.

As it stood, Telana was looking at them with prideful defiance, the kind Leia had seen many times over during her career. Youthful upstarts or complacent officials, all of them believing that their pride and conviction were much stronger than they actually were, when in fact they shattered at the first sign of adversity or bribe.

Both of them much gentler pressures than what Hux had in mind for Telana. She didn’t stand a chance.

Leia couldn’t stand by and let that happen. No matter how furious she was with the woman right now.

“Let us reason with her,” she demanded. “Perhaps we can persuade her to talk.”

For a moment, she thought Hux might refuse, but he only hummed in response, tilting his head in consideration. “And if not?”

The question was casual, but the answer was crucial. There was only one offer Leia could give that he might accept.

She took a deep breath. “Then you are free to have her.”

And as she expected, the cries of outrage were instantaneous. Behind her, all of her colleagues voiced their protest, even though none of them dared come close.

“Senator!”

“Organa!”

“You would not _dare…_ ”

She ignored all of them. If they had a better solution, they would have to step forward.

Hux glanced one more time at Telana, then transferred his attention back to Leia. “One hour,” he stated, and stepped aside. He gently pulled a reluctant Ben with him, and came to stand not three feet away from the crowd.

It took Leia a moment to realize that this would be it. No private room, no chairs, not even a semblance of comfort for Telana. She had managed to pull herself to a stand, but now found herself in the center of a circle formed by her colleagues and Hux’s men.

It was bound to make her feel trapped, and in turn make her lash out. Leia had no doubt Hux hoped she would; it would give him an excuse to act as he pleased.

“I suppose it’s too much to ask for you to leave?” she asked in a clipped voice.

Hux’s raised eyebrow gave her the answer she already knew was coming. “Kylo will have to stay, to be certain that she is telling the truth. I see no reason why I should leave.”

“And the rest of your men?”

“Do you anticipate a problem, Senators?” Hux challenged coolly. It was almost impressive how much contempt could be held in such few words.

There was nothing she could say, really, and she was wasting time trying to argue. So she turned towards Telana, who was shaking with rage. Maybe a little bit with fear.

Leia slowly walked to be closer to her. As she did, a few Senators stayed clear from her, distancing themselves both from her and from her actions. A few others to the contrary came close, standing behind her in quiet support. Poe had been forced to the side with the rest of the assistants and lesser ranked from the Republic delegation, but he still managed to place herself in her field of vision, and gave her a nod.

He had been unusually quiet since they were forced out of Hux’s ship; most likely he had decided not to risk saying anything wrong during such a delicate political situation.

Leia risked a glance towards Ben. He was glaring at the entire group, arms crossed and shoulders tense. He refused to meet her eye.

With a heavy heart, she turned her attention back towards the guilty party.

“Senator Telana,” she started gently. “You are from Coruscant, are you not?”

“Spare me your coddling, Organa,” Telana spat out. She angrily wiped a strand of black hair away from her eyes. “I may not have your experience in warfare, but I am familiar with interrogation techniques.”

Leia had expected as much. And in truth, there was no point in beating around the bush. “Then tell me, what can I say that will convince you to tell us what you know?”

Telana didn’t answer though. Instead, she looked at Hux, then at Ben, before turning her accusing eyes back on Leia. “You would give me to torture.”

At least she was not denying involvement. That saved them some time.

Still, Leia had to cut through Telana’s pride make her understand the direness of her situation. “You were seconds away from it-”

“At the hands of your son.”

It was a low blow, but effective. Leia’s breath caught in her throat, and it took a lot of effort to keep her voice level. “Yes,” she answered succinctly, ignoring the way her heart clenched at the admission.

What she couldn’t ignore was the cruel, cruel thought that though she had managed to avoid torture this time, Ben had hurt many people over the years, and no one had stopped him then.

When had Ben first been asked to hurt someone? When had he first began to enjoy it?

He had once been a boy who cried when C3PO had a dent on his arm.

And then they lost him.

And _Hux_ hadfound him.

“I gained you one hour,” she added more forcefully to distract herself from her own darkening thoughts. “What you do with it is up to you.”

“And if I chose to submit myself to torture?” Telana challenged. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, and the hard edge of her voice spoke as much of conviction as it did stubbornness. “Reveal those Imperials for what they really are?”

“And what is that?” Hux asked from his position against the wall. He looked more amused than anything at the accusation, a sharp contrast to Ben, whose face was nearly murderous.

Telana turned to face him, her lips pulled into a sneer. “Blood thirsty. Cruel. Dangerous.”

Before Leia could get a chance to reply, she heard a thoughtful hum from behind her.

She turned to see the Nautolan Senator, Athril Kogul, calmly stroking one of his tendril, head tilted to the side as he contemplated Telana’s words. “Even if that were true,” he said slowly, his pitch black eyes as expressionless as the rest of him, “we still have a treaty. Which you broke first. You all but confessed to it.”

Telana stiffened. “And you think that justifies torture?” she challenged voice dripping with disdain. Her eyes swept over the entire room, looking pointedly at each Senator and each assistant. More than one looked away when they met her gaze. “If you let them harm me, then you are just as guilty as them. All of you!”

Hux scoffed. “Oh, don’t worry, Senator. The Republic has more than enough experience looking the other way when a situation is too difficult to deal with.”

It was a jab that Hux had used more than once, but it never seemed to lose its effectiveness. A few of her colleagues grumbled in disapproval, a few visibly bristled. Telana looked completely outraged, to Leia’s complete lack of surprise; despite her reckless behavior, Telana had always been very passionate about the Republic.

Hux held Telana’s glare with a cold stare of his own. Beside him, Kylo shifted on his feet, uncrossing his arms as he flexed his hands.

“It wouldn’t be non-assistance,” Kogul spoke finally, breaking the tense silence and attracting everyone’s attention to himself.

Telana turned her head sharply, nostrils flaring. “Pardon?”

Kogul’s face didn’t have any eyebrows to be raised, but his affable demeanor clearly translated just how unconcerned he was with her anger. “These gathered delegates are assembled here, all striving to help you out of a difficult situation. We have bargained with the local authorities – authorities that the treaty that has just been signed recognizes as completely independent from the Republic. Thus, despite not having any legal power here, Organa has still successfully negotiated an outcome that preserves you from harm. An outcome that you stubbornly refuse.” He looked down at the tendril in his hand, running the tip of his finger over its green surface. “Non-assistance is only valid when one does not do all that one can to prevent the situation; this case could only ever be considered reckless endangerment of yourself.”

Telana looked stunned. For the first time since the beginning of the confrontation, her defiant pride had completely shattered, leaving only the anxiousness she had tried so very hard to hide.

Leia, for her part, could hardly believe that Kogul had spoken for so long without interruption. Though he had been a lawyer of a certain renown before becoming a Senator, he was also notably taciturn.

Telana swallowed heavily. “As you say,” was the only reply she gave, her toneless voice doing very little to hide her sudden doubt.

If there was ever an opportunity to convince her, it was now.

“So you recognize that you have no possible way to come out on top?” Leia asked softly, daring to take a step closer.

Telana clenched her jaw, but didn’t deny. It was all Leia needed.

“So tell us what you did,” she pressed. “Tell us why there are brand new military vessels scouting the Outer Rim. A military force that you all but admitted to having a hand in creating, and one that you obviously cannot control given that it attacked a ship you were on!”

Telana hesitated, taking a deep breath. When she next spoke, she sounded far more reasonable than she had been earlier, even though her reluctance hadn’t faded. “I do not object to telling you, Senators. My colleagues.” She glanced to the side, where Hux was still watching. “But I believe some of you will see the virtue in what I have done, and when that happens, you will be sorry that we’ve shared intelligence with the enemy.”

“Has it been one hour yet, Hux?” Ben’s voice was filled with put upon curiosity and impatience, and laced with a very real threat.

“Hush, Kylo,” Hux chided playfully. “The Senator is talking.”

“No she isn’t. That’s the entire problem.”

Leia clenched her teeth, but ignored them. “We’ll take that chance,” she stated firmly, looking intently at Telana.

The woman in question hesitated visibly, before deflating. It seemed she finally understood there was no way out of this for her.

Doubtless the threat of torture had played a part as well.

“I am not the only one involved in this,” she said in lieu of an introduction, one last attempt to absolve herself of the worst of her colleagues’ judgement.

“It would have been surprising if you were,” Leia said in reply. She didn’t elaborate any further.

Telana was visibly disappointed with the lack of further reaction, but continued anyway. “There are others in the Senate who, like me, believe that the _Supreme Warlord,_ ” she continued, no longer bothering to hide her contempt at the title, “is a danger to the Galaxy. He needs to be stopped.”

“A danger?” the Aqualish Senator scoffed. “Even if he had belligerent intents, his army could not possibly hope to take on the Republic!”

“For how long?” Telana argued back. “Until he builds his army, improves his military industry, until he does what all Imperials are wont to do? Best nip that problem in the bud. It’s what we did.”

“And how exactly did you intend on doing so?” Hux asked, voice dripping with scorn.

Telana’s echoed it. “You have enemies, Hux. Some of them more than capable of taking you down. All they need are the resources.”

“So you’ve given some unknown party enough spaceships to wage war against him?” the Cerean Senator cried out. “Are you insane?!”

“I personally mostly gave financial support,” Telana corrected. “The spaceships were someone else.”

Hux made a low sound. “How many?” he asked, taking one step forward.

Telana’s left leg twitched as she resisted the urge to step back. “I don’t know,” she answered, lifting her chin in defiance as if to compensate for her traitorous gesture.

Hux glanced at Ben, who pursed his lips and shook his head.

“She’s telling the truth,” he said simply, his unblinking gaze turning back towards Telana.

Hux’s did the same. “All for the purpose of installing a new ruler in the Outer Rim.” His let out a bark of scornful laughter. “You must be quite smitten with your chosen candidate.”

“No,” Ben said quietly. “That’s not it.”

Hux turned towards him once more, while Telana recoiled visibly in alarm.

If Leia had wanted her to keep her secrets, she would have advised her not to. The more she panicked, the more what she was panicking about came to the forefront of her mind, and the easier it was for Ben to read it.

And inevitably, that is exactly what happened.

“The purpose is that we wipe each other out,” he said slowly, hissing the last words as his eyes flared with anger. “She wants both parties to die”

There was a murmur going through the entire delegation

“Tell me, Telana, this little champion of yours, would he happen to be an imperial as well?” When Telana looked away, he smiled humorlessly. “I thought so. If it were anyone else, you wouldn’t so purposefully risk their lives.” He sneered then, stepping forward once more until he was but inched away from her.

“Who is it, then?” he asked, voice flat and menacing.

Telana clenched her fist and pinched her lips together, before looking away with a hiss.

She said nothing though.

Her stubbornness hadn’t completely disappeared after all.

“Oh really, Senator,” Hux chided, a patronizing smile on his face. “We’ve come so far.”

Leia stepped forward then. She refused to let Hux provoke Telana into action; the consequences would be disastrous.

“Telana,” she pleaded softly. “you’ve unleashed a beast you cannot control. Whoever you supported has no qualms attacking Republic Forces, and almost killed us not one hour ago. You have thrown us into battle, Senator; the least you can do is tell us where to find him.”

For a moment, she thought Telana might not listen.

And then, thankfully, she talked.

“The name I’ve been given was Lem Favis,” she said quietly, cheeks darkening slightly at that final admission.

Hux’s mouth parted open, before he closed his eyes and released an exasperated exhale.

“Who is Favis?” Kogul asked, never losing his disinterested air as he tossed his tendrils back behind his head.

Hux’s lips pulled into an ugly sneer. “Some mediocre warlord that by all accounts should have been dead.”

Telana chuckled darkly. “That you were unaware he survived does not speak well of your capabilities, Hux.”

“The building he was in collapsed on itself,” Hux shot back. The news must have rattled him more than he let on if he felt the need to defend himself. “There was no point in trying to find a corpse, it would have been unrecognizable anyway. No matter what you may have seen in your soap operas, you don’t need to see the body to be certain that someone is dead.”

“But you were wrong,” Leia concluded.

Hux’s face darkened. “It would appear so. But not for long.” He turned toward Telana once more. “Where do we find him?”

“I don’t know.”

Once again, Hux looked at Ben.

In lieu of an answer, her son raised his hand and flexed his fingers.

Telana immediately let out a panicked gasp. Her hands shot up towards her throat, futilely trying to dislodge the phantom hands squeezing it. Her breath wasn’t impaired, but the threat was obvious.

“Try again,” Hux said calmly.

No one dared to move, though a few Senators visibly stiffened.

Leia, for her part, could barely breath.

“I don’t know!” Telana blurted out. “I never met with him personally!” Ben’s hand clenched ever so slightly, and her voice grew even more frantic. “I only know of a meeting point! Durgeon! They met in Durgeon! Please, I-”

She gasped as the pressure around her throat was released. She bent forward, breathing heavily as she tried to regain her composure.

Neither Hux nor Ben looked her way.

“Durgeon,” the warlord repeated. “Of course.”

It did make sense.

Though Durgeon was technically within the Outer Rim, it was close enough to Republic borders that Hux’s influence was not as great there.

If there was ever a planet well suited for a clandestine meeting, that would be it.

“Tell me, Telana, is there any more information I might squeeze out of you?”

Telana shook her head frantically. Hux looked at Ben, who nodded in confirmation.

Hux looked away, and Ben took two step forwards to reach Telana. Telana looked up warily.

Before anyone could react, Ben punched her in the jaw, sending her sprawling on the floor.

She didn’t get back up.

As the delegates stared in mute shock, Hux let out a long suffering exhale “Put her in a cell, somewhere,” he drawled at the soldier nearest to him. “And maybe a bacta patch for her jaw.” He then turned towards Senator, his smile all teeth and unspoken threats. “Well, then, Senators, how do you expect the Republic will compensate for this disaster?”

*****

For the following negotiations, the Republic delegation had been moved to a more comfortable room, where a table much like the one they had been sitting at these past three days had had been set up for them. The downside to this was that only the Senators had been allowed to follow; in light of recent revelations, no one had been willing to protest.

Telana’s actions had put them in the wrong, no matter what intentions had been behind them. Now, all they could do was try to appease Hux’s anger.

“I understand your frustrations, Supreme Warlord,” the delegate from Mon Calamari started, valiantly ignoring the way Ben scoffed at the word “frustration”, “but I don’t know what you expect the twelve of us to do.”

“Your delegates are the one who engineered this crisis,” Hux answered icily. “It is only fair that you solve it, is it not?”

“Would you allow us to have free reign of action in your territory, Supreme Warlord?” Leia asked, crossing her hands in front of her.

“Of course not. You gave my enemies military support. I demand the same.”

It was an outlandish request, but one he was well in the right to make.

That didn’t mean they had to accept it right away.

“We cannot act without validation from Hosnian Prime,” Kogul stated calmly. “We need to go back to the Senate.”

“So we should just let you leave, then?” Ben snarled from beside Hux. If the warlord took offense to the initiative, he didn’t show it. “Let you flee back to your Republic’s tender bosom, and leave us to deal with a crisis you created?”

Kogul didn’t even flinch. “We swear to return with our decision, once it is made.”

“You also swore to recognize my sovereignty.” Hux’s voice was both flat and mocking. “That did not last long.”

The delegates had no answer to give.

Hux smiled.

“But perhaps…” he started softly, leaning back in his seat as his finger tapped against the wood of the table. “What if I asked for voucher of good faith?”

Leia’s eyes narrowed. “What do you have in mind?” she asked for all of them.

Hux smile was full of malice. “Leave some of your men here. I will not harm them.” A pause. “That is, unless you fail to live up on your end of the bargain.”

The response was instantaneous.

“No,” the Cerean delegate all but snarled. A few of his colleagues muttered their support, while the rest simply nodded in confirmation.

“No?” Hux’s drawl sounded affable enough, but his eyes were narrowing dangerously.

The Senator didn’t budge. “Our men are not pawns to play in your game. We will not let you make trade with their lives.”

Hux nodded once, but his face and his voice were hard. “Then we are at an impasse,” he said icily.

Next to him, Ben reached into his jacket.

The Cerean delegate followed the movement with his eyes. He swallowed nervously, but didn’t relent.

Hux made no move to stop Ben; Leia wondered if he would truly let him slaughter the entire delegation.

It didn’t seem likely. Though he could always blame their deaths on Flavis, and Telana should he be clever enough, the Senators were still much more useful to him alive. Hux was a cruel man, but a practical one as well. Leia didn’t think he would let his pride get in the way.

That didn’t mean she could take that chance.

She didn’t know if Ben meant it or not. Didn’t know how true this eagerness at promised violence was. She wanted to believe it was simple a threat, a way to force their hands, but she had seen him kill right in front of her eyes, and it had been brutal. Remorseless.

She had no doubt he would kill every Senator in this room. She wondered if he would kill her too.

_How did this happen?_

The question filled her mind and stabbed at her heart leaving a horrid wound that bled both pain and hate.

_How did this happen?_

She hated Hux, for turning her son into his hound. She hated him for poisoning Ben like that, when he had been so alone in the world, so lost and scared. Because Han had taken him, and Ben never came back, and she could still hear Han’s frantic yells of apology and anger, the negative report after each attempt at finding, the pleas and begging and her own voice as she called for an end of the years-long search to focus on the war.

_How did this happen?_

(She knew how. It made her choke on guilt and grief.)

She could still see her boy, in this violent, loyal man. Could still see her son in the looks Ben gave Hux, full of hope and eagerness to please. It looked so very similar to the expression he wore when he would ask her if he could go play in the ship hangar, and… 

Oh.

With that last thought came an idea, like a flash of perverse inspiration. A way to appease Hux, and put an end to the rising violence in the room.

But it was more than that, to her great shame. It was more than that, for the idea only blossomed when she looked at her son, her sweet boy, and remembered two children at play that had vowed to explore the Galaxy together.

“Poe Dameron,” she said quickly, drawing all the eyes in the room to her

“Poe Dameron will be the voucher. He will stay,” she continued, trying very hard

She had no right to offer up Poe like that. No matter if she thought he would have volunteered on his own, she had no right to make the decision without consulting him.

Hux frowned at her, obviously considering her offer, but still unhappy with it. “I won’t satisfy myself with just one.”

“He is a war hero,” Leia argued back, despising herself all the while for doing so. “In the eyes of the Republic, you will be hard pressed to find a more valuable hostage.”

“Hostage is such a strong word…” Hux half-mumbled, trailing off thoughtfully. His green eyes bore into hers, unreadable and threatening.

Leia didn’t flinch.

Finally, Hux spoke again, his voice slow and deliberate. “Dameron…He’s one of yours, isn’t he, Organa?”

Next to him, Ben made a sound of pure dismay. “Hux!” he exclaimed, eyes wide and furious. “You cannot be considering…”

“Quiet, Kylo,” Hux cut him off. He didn’t even look at him.

Ben’s face went livid, but he reluctantly sat back down.

Leia did not dare look at him for more than a second. To see him so furious brought her a perverse sense of relief.

He wouldn’t be so outraged if he were indifferent to Poe.

That meant there was still hope.

“Yes,” she said in answer to Hux’s question.

The warlord held her gaze for a moment longer, then nodded. “I hope you behave as righteously as you preach, otherwise his life is forfeit. Very well, I agree.”

Leia nodded once. It had been the outcome she had wanted, but she couldn’t bring herself to rejoice.

Poe deserved better than that.

Her fellow delegates were obviously just as conflicted as her on this solution. Still, none of them voiced any true objections.

“And on your part, Supreme Warlord?” Kogul asked. “What voucher might we expect? It would make a very good impression in front of the Senate if you showed the same _courtesy_ you asked of us.”

“I have a crisis to deal with; I cannot send twelve men just to placate your Republic.”

“It need only be one. Fair is fair, after all.”

Hux waved his hand in the air dismissively. “I am not going to waste soldiers by sending them to parade for the Senate.” His eyes turned towards one of the soldiers stationed next to the door. “Fighter Dagnir, kindly inform Silais that his presence is requested immediately. Tell him I’ve found a way to make him somewhat useful.” As the soldier nodded and left the room, Hux turned back towards the delegates. “Now get out. I have enough preparations to do without your pestering.”

 

*

 

After Hux’s dismissal, Leia rushed straight to Poe.

He had been waiting for her just at the end of the hallway, as close to her as the soldiers would let him get. He had smiled when he saw her, a small grin made to give her comfort.

It quickly vanished when she quickly pulled him to the side, apologies pouring from her lips as she got him to as secluded a space as she could. It didn’t take long for her to explain what she had done in that room.

There wasn’t much to say, and she refused to give herself excuses.

And Poe, so unfailingly kind, took it all in quietly. Even after she had finished talking, he said nothing for a while, mulling over the situation she had thrust him in.

Leia said nothing all the while, silently awaiting his judgement.

“Ah,” he said finally, chuckling awkwardly. “Well, it’s a good thing I brought some spare clothes.”

Leia’s heart clenched at his bravery. “I am so sorry I volunteered you like that, Poe. If you don’t wish to stay, I will find another way-”

Poe shook his head vigorously. “No, Senator. I... I know it was difficult in there.” He grinned then, the same grin he gave whenever he was rushing to a dangerous mission. “And I do agree to it. I can handle myself.”

“I know you can,” Leia replied softly. “It doesn’t mean it isn’t dangerous.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to danger by now.”

Leia winced.

“Senator,” Poe said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t blame you. If someone has to stay, then I much prefer it be just me rather than several others. Besides,” he added after a moment’s hesitation, “Ben is here. And I’ll be able to have more than three days with him.”

“Yes,” Leia answered quietly. So Poe had the same thought she had. “I know it is selfish of me to ask, but…”

“You don’t have to,” Poe interrupted her gently. “I missed him too.” He hesitated. “I mean, I know it’s not the same. He’s your son, and we were just friends, I didn’t mean to...”

“Poe.” Leia smiled softly, taking his hand in hers. “It’s alright.” She swallowed. “In truth, I am… glad that you understand.”

True to himself, Poe tried to answer with some cheer, but his eyes were sad and his expression mournful. He looked to the side, his voice coming out as a whisper. “We used to dream of stealing the Falcon. I’d be the pilot, and he’d be the Jedi. We would have found a Princess somewhere.”

Leia knew that, of course.

Ben would often tell her so, as she tucked him in and kissed him goodnight.

“It was a good plan,” she murmured, unable to say anything more past the lump in her throat.

Poe chuckled sadly. “We thought so.”

He shook his head then, and when he next looked at her his face was much more optimistic. It wasn’t an entirely honest expression, but it was the kind that came from bravery and determination. “It’s good that I get more time with him. I mean, he manages to avoid me for the past three days, but he won’t be able to keep it up for weeks now, will he?”

“Well, Dameron, if you truly believe that then you have never stood outside our Leader’s bedroom.”

The two of them turned sharply towards the side where the voice had come from.

There stood a male Twi’lek looking at them in faux-innocence. His cheeky, almost youthful expression contrasted sharply with his older face. His red skin was already wrinkling at the corner of his mouth and eyes, and his voice had the sort of depth that only came with edge.

“But we do not talk about such things,” he continued airily, before turning towards Leia with a bright grin on his face. “Senator Organa! It is a privilege to meet you!”

Leia cleared her throat. “I am sorry, you are…?”

“No one of importance!” the man answered brightly. “But also your escort on this upcoming voyage! Silais’Lurron, a true delight to meet you!” He turned towards Poe. “And you as well, though you will forgive me for not being quite as star-struck.”

Leia blinked.

She hadn’t expected a Twi’lek to be a part of Hux’s clan. All the soldiers and servants she had seen so far had been human, and she had attributed that to the Empire’s speciesism still lingering even after its fall. Even now, she didn’t believe it had left entirely, but perhaps Hux was too practical a man to be a human supremacist.

More importantly, it made sense for him to send to the Republic a non-human; if there was any way for him to wordlessly distance himself from the Empire, that would be it.

It was a subtle manipulation, one that was most likely reinforced by the cheery demeanor and affable air. How often had Hux used such tricks?

How often had he used them on Ben?

The thought made her heart ache and tighten in anguish.

“Are you here to escort me off planet?” she asked. She knew she sounded cold, perhaps even hostile, but in that moment she didn’t care.

Silais’ expression faltered for a second, before his amused mask reinstalled itself. “Why, yes, but…”

“Then we had best not keep your Warlord waiting,” she said curtly[LB1] [LB2] . As much as she wanted to support Poe for as long as possible, she also knew the importance in seizing as much control as possible when confronting an enemy.

Silais was Hux’s man, and Hux would never be anything more than the man who trapped her son.

She turned towards Poe one last time, squeezing his shoulder in a silent goodbye. He gave her one last smile, and winked in the same overconfident way that she had gently chided him for so many times before.

It made her smile too, something she didn’t think she would have been capable of today. And then she walked away, Silais trailing behind her despite his longer legs.

She didn’t look back once, not to see Poe turn away, not to see the building Ben was currently in. She didn’t stop until she reached the entrance on the ship. At that point she couldn’t help but lean a hand against the cold steel, the solid and impersonal wall the only form of support she could find.

She watched as Silais gave his blaster to the security droid, then reluctantly gave the vibroblade hidden in his sleeve when it beeped it disapproval. He gave her a conspiratorial wink, one that she ignored.

After they were both cleared for entrance they arrived in the large common room of the middle deck. There a few of her colleagues were sitting. They all turned their head towards them as they entered, and eyed Silais with various degrees of mistrust.

None of them said a word.

Silais whistled. “If it’s all the same to you,” he said none too quietly. “I will retire in your pilot’s room. All those frowning faces, I would almost feel unwelcome!”

He left before she could give an answer, not that she would have denied him anyway. The thought of leaving Ben behind filled her with both misery and a strange numbness that kept the entire world at bay. Now, so close to departure, she had to keep herself from trembling, fighting down the urge to rush out, take Ben by the hand and pull him close to her, bring him home and never let him out of her sight again.

It wasn’t possible, of course.

Even if it were, Ben would hate her for it.

As she stepped further into the room, the attention of her colleagues turned towards her. Some smiled in grim support, other looked warier.

She paid them no mind.

She sat herself near the window, through which she could still see the barracks and buildings that made Hux’s base. Somewhere in there, the warlord was planning his next move. And next to him would be Ben. Maybe he would be mouthing at his lover’s neck in the same overt displays that had so shocked her peers. Maybe he would be fuming against the Republic. Maybe even he would be arguing with Hux for allowing Poe to stay.

It didn’t matter; Ben was there, and she was leaving him behind.

When the ship took off, she watched as the planet shrink until it disappeared completely from view.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to talk about this AU? About Kylux? About nothing in particular? Come find me on tumblr, at [ courgette96 ](http://courgette96.tumblr.com)


	3. Kylo I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is folks! Chapter three is here! 
> 
> As usual, this chapter has been made readable by the lovely Wren_ofthewildwood!

Kylo stood in the corner of the ship hangar, sulking as he waited for the clear to leave.

Usually, he was always eager to be sent on a mission for Hux, if only for the freedom of movement it granted him. Even after all these years, nearly a decade spent on a slaver’s stall was hard to forget. But today, his usual enthusiasm was dimmed by the foul mood that had plagued him for the past several days.

Thanisson’s attack, Telana’s confession.

Hux’s utter disregard for Kylo’s opinion in those matters, expecting him to be quiet and accept whatever decisions he made in managing this crisis. As if Kylo were a mere underling, a mere…

Well, he _was_ a slave, technically. But Hux had never really treated him as one. Ever since Kylo had ripped apart those three men on the day they met, Hux had always looked at him like he was something special. Something precious.

Now he barely looked at him at all, spending his entire days locked away in planning, then collapsing in their bed as soon as he stepped into the room. He would lay awake at night, mulling over decisions and strategies, barely relaxing when Kylo wrapped his arms around him.

Kylo hated it. hated to be so disregarded.

Conversely, he also hated receiving the attention of the one man he wanted to never see again.

Crossing his arms, he glared at the ship that was meant to take him to Durgeon. Or rather, he glared at the person he knew was inside.

Next to him he heard a haughty scoff, one that had grown very familiar over the years.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath as Lady Hux made his way towards him. He always tried not to snap at her, the only person aside from Hux he made such efforts towards. That didn’t mean he was always in the mood for her particular brand of smug wit.

“You look as if you might destroy the vessel just by looking at it,” she announced, standing beside him to look at the ship. She cocked her head in mock contemplation. “What a fearsome weapon that might be.”

Kylo grunted. “If I could do such things, then maybe your son wouldn’t have seen fit to accept help from the Republic.”

Lady Hux turned towards him, raising her eyebrow. “And the cause for your brooding is revealed,” she drawled. “I had thought I might have to pry it out of you, but to be fair you were never one for emotional restraint.”

“I am very restrained,” Kylo mumbled. He sounded petulant. He didn’t care. “Dameron is still alive, isn’t he?”

The answering look he got was so very unimpressed. “Would you really have killed him, given permission?”

He paused.

Ever since he got left behind, Dameron seemed determined to confront him, seemed more than happy to act as Organa’s proxy. There was no rhythm or reason to his interventions, what with Kylo’s daily schedule being anything but regular. Still, the pilot had nothing to do here but stalk Kylo, and any moment alone was quickly interrupted by Dameron’s arrival, all casual smile and cheery ease.

Kylo had forgotten that he could be so determined; he had also forgotten the general air of _pleasantness_ that surrounded Dameron. Confidence and a good nature poured out of him in waves, the effect magnified by years of exposure to a Force tree. Kylo distantly remembered it soothing him once, when there was still need for vicarious strength.

Now it just put him on edge.

And the fact that Dameron called him by that name he had so readily cast away, that he so obviously wanted him to be that boy again, when Kylo was so much _better_ now…

There were so many reasons to hate Dameron. But to kill him…?

“Probably not,” he said bitterly as realization set in. “I just don’t want him here.”

Lady Hux hummed in commiseration, but her tone was still reproachful. “You would trust the Republic without safeguard?” she sniffed. “I doubt they hold our best interest in their hearts.”

In truth, Kylo had enough memories from before to know that Organa would probably have done as she had promised even without the safeguard. Bitter memories of where her priorities have always laid that assured him that she would work tirelessly for the cause she has set for herself.

(When he was very young, he had often heard from her colleagues that once Organa set herself an objective, it was only a matter of time before it was accomplished. As a young boy living in a cottage on Yavin IV, the notion had filled him with pride. As a child in chains and in a cage, it had come back to taunt him with each year with no rescue attempt.)

Organa cared for all these people she had never met; for that reason alone, she would come to their aid.

He didn’t voice any of those thoughts though. Lady Hux had lived through the fall of the Empire, and had her own set of prejudice against the woman responsible and the Republic as a whole. He knew to temper her comment would be a pointless endeavor.

And to be honest, he didn’t even want to temper himself.

“But does Dameron _have_ to come with me?” he grumbled instead.

As usual, Lady Hux’s sympathy was hard to earn. “I heard he volunteered.”

“Which wouldn’t have meant pfaask if Hux hadn’t accepted it.”

“Brendan has his reasons,” she replied diplomatically. “Most of them steeped in pride, granted, but…” she sighed. “Well, he does have final say.”

“Don’t I know it,” Kylo mumbled bitterly.

She hummed. “Our Brendan certainly does get snappish when he is in a mood.” She reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing slightly as she cooed the next words. “But we don’t take it personally, do we?”

Kylo exhaled loudly, but felt himself deflate. “You might not.”

Madame chuckled then, shaking her head as she reached up to press a peck on his cheek. “Be good for him, Kylo,” she whispered as she pulled back. “He has cause enough for worry as it is.”

“I’m always good for him,” Kylo shot back. He took the hand that was still on his shoulder, brushing the back of her fingers to his lips in the way of the old Empire. She had taught him how to do so once, and he knew she would take it for the ascent that it was. “Certainly more than he deserves.”

“Oh certainly,” she replied pleasantly. She patted his cheek, sharing a conspiratorial smile. “But he would be lost without us, and what sacrifices we make for those we love.”

Kylo glanced at her, at her neatly braided hair and at her clothing, which was far more delicate and luxurious than most things in the compound. It all spoke of a day devoid of any labor or hardship. “You certainly seem to be suffering.”

“Try nursing a sickly seven-year-old suffering from Shriwook flu in an over packed shuttle. I’ve done my share.”

 

*

The shuttle ride to Durgeon was done in silence. Kylo had spent more time than necessary in the lower deck or upper command center, under the pretense of making sure everything was going well. Unfortunately, Hux’s men were too well-trained for things to run any other way that perfectly, it meant that he soon ran out of reasons to linger. And for all his resolve to avoid Dameron, wandering in the halls rather than in the more comfortable central area was to humiliating to bear.

Hux wasn’t the only one with pride, after all.

Fortunately, Dameron had been wise enough not to engage in conversation, though he did extend friendly smiles and warm glances towards Kylo, who ignored them stonily. Not that it seemed to deter Dameron at all.

Once there, Kylo gave curt instructions to the crew before leaving with Dameron in toe. The pilot looked puzzled; Kylo didn’t care to ask why.

“Aren’t we going to inform Hux that we arrived?” Dameron finally asked as they walked out of the ship bay.

For a moment, Kylo considered the merits of ignoring him for the entire stay. A temporarily appealing notion, but very impractical; also, he didn’t want to be quite that petty. “No need.”

“Oh,” Dameron answered dumbly. He frowned. “Is it a Force thing?”

Kylo rolled his eyes and raised his wrist in the air, shaking them for better visibility. “Tracker in the shackles. Standard issue, really.”

“Oh…” Dameron said again. He looked much more disapproving. “And it doesn’t bother you?”

To be frank, he never really thought of it most days. Today though, the sight of the shackles reminded him of Hux, which in turn reminded him of his foul mood at how he’d been treated. In that regard, the mention of the slave trackers didn’t help.

Not that he would say as much to Dameron. That man didn’t need more fuel for his righteousness.

“Saves me time,” Kylo replied with a shrug.

He accelerated his steps afterwards, not waiting for an answer. He smirked when he saw the smaller man struggle to keep up.

Making their way through the city was a tedious arrangement. It seemed a universal law that no matter how rich the planet- and though Durgeon was no Coruscant, it was still prosperous enough – the town with the space station was always the seediest and dirtiest.

This was no exception. The streets were largely made of dirt, with a few patches of stone pavements which were probably all that remained from a previous attempt to beautify the place.  They were narrow too, a fact that was worsened by the crowds, which only seemed to grow thicker and thicker the more they made their way through it.

It wasn’t surprising though; here were the brothels and the cantinas, and all sorts of shops destined who had settled here. Grocers, clothing stores, second-hand hardware, it didn’t matter; the customers here were all drunk and merry, and more than willing to spend credits.

Dameron whistled. “This is just like the holos we used to watch as kids. Much dirtier though.”

Kylo ignored him. He bumped into a Kilik, and shoved him aside, ignoring the indignant clicking he got in response.

“Also, I don’t remember there being quite so many brothels. Though to be fair, I didn’t know what brothels were at the time.”

There was a puddle of _something_ on the floor. Kylo stepped over it, quietly hoping that Dameron wouldn’t see it.

“I mean, the stories your dad- ”

Kylo slammed him against the wall.

The pilot nearly hit his head against the wall, and grunted as his back hit the uneven stones. Kylo didn’t relent though, using his forearm to pin him.

A few people glanced at them as they walked by, but they were wise enough not to intervene.

“I’m here for Hux,” he said slowly. He made full use of his height, towering over the man as he spoke.  “I’m here to find Favis, so that I can kill him later. I am tolerating your presence because I have to, but if you keep on talking about _them_ , I will choke you into unconsciousness and leave you on the ship. Now shut up.”

Dameron’s permanently cocksure attitude was gone now, replaced by nervous seriousness. “Noted,” he croaked.

Kylo would have liked to thought it was out of fear, but it probably was mainly because his arm was pressed against Dameron’s throat. Still, as long as it worked.

Of course, a flyboy’s attitude is never gone for long. As soon as Kylo let him down, Dameron dusted himself off with a smirk. “You know, that may be the longest you’ve spoken to me and your mother combined since I first got here.”

Kylo hissed. “What did I just-”

“I know, I know,” Dameron placated quickly, raising his hand in surrender. “I heard you, and I won’t say anything more about the subject. It’s just that…” He swallowed. Kylo watched as his expression grew more and more frustrated, saw him struggle with his words. “It’s been years – decades and…you’re _here._ ”

His voice was amazed.

It made Kylo uncomfortable, so he held onto his sneer and stony voice. “Indeed I am.”

“Haha, funny,” Dameron muttered. “You know what I mean.”

“You’re not particularly eloquent.”

“Dammit Ben!” Dameron finally huffed. “Sorry, Kylo. Point’s the same. I’m really happy that you’re alive, okay? I missed you.”

_We all did,_ came floating at the surface of his mind.

Kylo froze.

He hadn’t wanted to hear it, wouldn’t have if he hadn’t been so focused on him, if Dameron hadn’t thought it so strongly.

They _missed_ him. He thought it so earnestly, too.

It was grotesque. Poe Dameron, so eager to defend his precious Senator - he had always idealized her so, so much so that Kylo had sometimes been jealous. Such a loyal little man, willing to be Organa’s voice, not realizing that her words meant _fuck all_ now.

They missed him. Ha.

That hadn’t done much for him in the end, had it?

Dameron was so, so lucky he hadn’t voiced that thought aloud.

Kylo didn’t even respond to that, just turned on his heels and walked back into the crowd. He had been hoping to lose Dameron somehow, but alas, he felt the hurt confusion radiating behind him, even as it slowly gave way to renewed determination.

Kylo hated him.

Soon enough, they arrived at their destination. The building was much like the others, grey stones and dirt floors, yet it had the distinction of having a sign denoting it as a cantina made of yellow lights. It was impossible to tell how much of the color was natural and how much was due to the layer of filth that covered the bulbs. From the inside came the sound of low chatting and music coming out of a battered radio. There was no visible brawl as of yet, but given the nature of the establishment, it seemed it was only a matter of time.

Dameron raised an eyebrow at the facade. “ _This_ is where we’re going?”

**“** It’s the only cantina worth a damn here,” Kylo retorted coldly as he entered. “Fortunately, we know the owner.”

Said owner – known to Kylo as Slig, though he honestly didn’t know if it was his first name or last - spotted them from across the cantina. His somber, sour expression immediately transformed into a wide, exaggerated smile, and he approached Kylo with open arms as if they were old friends. “Ah! Lord Ren!”

He heard Dameron make a noise in surprise. “Lord?” he mouthed at Kylo.

“I don’t call myself that,” Kylo mumbled back. The vicarious embarrassment was strong.

Slig came huddling to them, his small eyes gleaming with greed as he took Kylo in. His smile was unpleasant, what with his tobacco stained teeth, his breath that always smelled of alcohol, and the tongue that came to lick his lips as if he tasted what money he might get from Hux’s right hand.

When he extended both hands to shake Kylo’s – completely ignoring Dameron as he did – Kylo had to resist the urge to squeeze too hard.

“Y’a honor me, coming to my humble place. Really and truly,” Slig simpered. It was odd, hearing his speech: his voice still had hints classic accent that most ex-Imperials had, for all that he had shed the rest of their mannerisms.

“I have a table ready for you,” he continued, finally releasing Kylo’s hand and gesturing towards his establishment. “Best in the house!” He turned towards the room, yelling at the woman manning the bar. “Hey Mill!’

Mill spat on the floor before answering in a lazy, if loud drawl. “Yeah?”

“Move yer ass and get the booth table ready!”

“It’s occupied, y’a blind moof-milker!”

“Then kriffing unoccupied it!” Slig roared, pointing insistently at Kylo. “Lord Ren is here!” He turned towards the Force user, wincing in contrition. “Apologies, my Lord, she’s new.”

Mill obviously heard, and instead of looking apologetic she spat out a curse. “Well if y’a said it before, I woulda done it right away!”

She gave something approaching a nod to Ren, then made her way to the largest table in the corner. For someone so small, she made quick work of pulling out the rather large patrons currently occupying it. Said patrons looked ready for a fight, but Mill just spat on the floor again, and jerked her finger towards Kylo.

It was all it took to convince the three men to find business elsewhere. Either they knew who he was, or they elected not to mess with the scarred and visibly armed man standing beside the owner.

Slig ushered them to the newly-liberated table, bringing with him two glasses from the bar. “What can I get for you, m’Lord?” he asked hurriedly as Dameron and Kylo sat on either side of the table. “There is some fine Ostrapori wine in the back. Not something I would waste on the regulars, mind you,” he added conspiratorially, going so far as to wink, “but for _you,_ I would even make a price _…_ ”

Kylo smiled politely, if somewhat stiffly. “Thank you, Slig. But I didn’t come here for the drinks.”

“Ah but my Lord! Ostrapori wine!” Slig laughed, clapping his hand on Kylo’s shoulder. “So hard to find these days, y’a can’t say no to that!”

Kylo reached out to the dirty hand on his jacket, and grabbed the wrist. He watched with satisfaction as Slig froze, and then squeezed his hand ever so slightly.

“Apparently I just did,” he said tonelessly. His grip on Slig’s wrist tightened even more; nothing painful, but the message was clear enough.

Slig was greedy, but not stupid. “Of course, of course! I understand. Gotta keep the mind sharp, yes?” His smile was hesitant and put upon; it became sincerer when Kylo released his arm. “You have the right idea, Lord Ren,” he simpered as he rubbed his wrist with his other hand.

Kylo’s mind quickly darted back to the stash of herbs Hux kept in a small box by his bedside. Although he didn’t take it out often, the two of them still had spent more than a few nights lounging on pillows and blankets breathing in the fumes that came from burning them.

Memories of those nights made his lips twitch into a smile; Slig misinterpreted it as confirmation, and relaxed visibly.

“So what can I do for you?” he asked, sliding down on the bench next to Dameron.

Kylo reached inside of his jacket and pulled out the data pad that had been confiscated from one of the Senators. It was a thin and fragile looking thing, one that wouldn’t last long should Kylo make any continuous use of it. Fortunately, all he needed was to show Slig all the photos within, after which he could break it in half for all that it mattered.

With a touch of his finger, he brought out the official photos of every Senator currently in office, and slid the pad towards Slig. “Have you seen any of them?”

It took time for Slig to go through each photo, carefully scrutinizing each one before going on to the next. Kylo didn’t mind, content to carefully gauge Slig’s reaction in order to sniff out any possible deception.

Not that he thought the man capable of such things.

Eventually, the cantina owner paused through his overview, and squinted his eyes. He nodded emphatically. “That one, yes! Remember this one, sat right over there!” he exclaimed, pointing at a table in across the room. “Wondered what a prim-lookin’ Aqualish was doing with a scruffy mercenary type.”

Dameron frowned. “Mercenary type?”

“Yeah, I mean, I figured?” Slig scratched his head; his fingers left marks in his product-laced hair. “Wasn’t one of Warlord Hux’s people – I know them all, of course. Very important people, they get my best treatment – but he still had himself some mean-lookin’ blasters and vibros. Definitely knew how to use them.” He shrugged. “They were talkin’ about business and credit exchanges though, so I just figured there were people out there that needed killing.”

“Yes, we knew as much,” Kylo answered impatiently. “Did they say anything that might tell us where we to find them?”

Slig’s demeanor changed immediately at that. He recoiled on himself, laughing nervously as his scratching grew more frenetic. “Ah, well, y’know, they talk a lot, and I’ve gotta business to run. Not that I’m ever too busy for you, Lord Ren, it’s just…”

“If you don’t know, just say so,” Kylo interrupted with a glare. His fingers flexed in the air, longing for his blade. “And stop wasting my time.”

“No, no, no! I can tell you, I know things!” It was almost funny how nervous he was, so eager to please lest he lose what favor he imagined he had. “They didn’t speak much of where they were from, but the scruffy one did talk about leaving his ship by Tofa’s Hangar. Maybe someone there will know?”

Maybe.

Kylo grit his teeth.

Maybe wasn’t good enough, but if that’s all he managed to get out of Slig, then that’s all the man knew.

Dameron looked at him in understanding; by all appearances, he seemed to share Kylo’s frustrations. “It is as good a lead as any,” he said diplomatically. “We will need a picture of him though.”

“Sure thing, sure thing,” Slig blurted out with a nod. “Gonna check the security feed, yeah?”

Kylo knew the “security feed” to be nothing more than six holocams shoved in each corner of the room, but so long as it got him the pictures he would say nothing. “Thank you, Slig.”

The slimy man quickly darted out of the booth to provide the feed. When he was out of earshot, Dameron leaned forward.

“So, how do you know this guy?” he asked. The general noise level forbade him from speaking the words in a whisper.

“Not all Imperials joined war tribes,” Kylo replied with a shrug. “Some mingled with the locals, some fled to the Republic before communications were shut down. Others opened seedy cantinas in the areas with more grey alignments.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t tell me how you knew him.”

“He invited us for a drink. Then tried to make us pay for it. Hux took offense on both the ungentlemanly gesture and the piss-poor quality of the alcohol.” He leaned back. “Since then, he tries to be on our good side.”

“I see the type, yeah. So why are we here?”

“I thought it was obvious.”

“You know what I mean. Are we sure this guy is telling the truth?”

“What is that you said?!”

Dameron startled, looking up to find an angry Slig glaring back at him. In his hands were small, cheap date chips, no doubt filled with the footage of the negotiation that took place here.

It was almost preposterous how appalled the man looked, considering his usual practices. “You doubting my word?!” he spat out, spit flying out of his mouth.

Dameron stood his ground. “It just seems convenient,” he replied almost casually.

“Convenient?!” Slig sniffed in indignation.

Kylo reached into Slig’s hand and plucked out the chip, slipping it into his data pad to check the quality of the footage.

Dameron hummed in suspicion. “You’re telling us you know exactly what those two said, even though you had your cantina to tend to?”

Slig flushed, looking worriedly at Kylo. It was obvious he was looking for signs that he was losing the Enforcer’s good graces, so Kylo took great pleasure in keeping his face blank.

Slig swallowed nervously, then summoned his anger once more as he looked back at Dameron. Slipping in the booth beside him, he narrowed his eyes. “Where you from, boy?”

Dameron squared his shoulders. “Yavin IV.”

“What?! You’re a Repie?!” He turned towards Kylo, gesturing wildly towards the pilot. “He’s a Repie?!”

“It would seem so,” Kylo replied nonchalantly.

Slig took it as a chastisement. “Ah, pardon me, my Lord. I’d never dream of questioning your judgement.” He laughed nervously, before returning to his righteous outrage. “But you know me, loyal to the end, always alert for any threat to you and Supreme Warlord Hux’s peace.”

“I’m sure.”

Slig smiled in smug relief, before switching back to a glare towards Dameron; it was frankly impressive how many expressions he could pantomime. “Now listen here, boy. I know you’ve been out there in your Republic, drinking gold milkshakes and what not, but let me tell you how the real world is, right?”

Had Kylo not been looking for it, he wouldn’t have noticed Dameron stiffening.

Indignation poured out of him in waves, accompanied by flashes of X-wings, squadrons, explosions. Flying towards a black citadel, knowing there was a monster inside, and knowing his friend had decided to face it.

Dameron had fought in a war, which was more than Slig ever could say. Considering that, his reaction to Slig’s condescension was incredibly restrained.

If Kylo were in his stead, he would have slammed Slig’s face into the table.

But of course, Dameron only nodded minutely, gritted his teeth and said nothing.

Slig leaned back in his seat, jerking his head towards the rest of the room. “Look around,” he ordered with far more confidence than was warranted. “All these customers. They come and go, right? All of them, come to old Slig’s cantina, before rushing off to pfaask knows where. Now me?” he added, jerking his thumb towards his chest. “I mind my own business, cause I’m a good host. But still, gotta watch my back, right? Never hurts to be in the know of what’s going on. Especially in the old days. Back then, never know when some clonehead might kriff up my peace because whatever son of a nerf Imp they are following decided they wanted this planet. Because let me tell you, all y’a need in one of them clans fighting the other, and bam!” He smacked his palm against the table. “Customers start fleeing because numnoks are shooting at each other. And I’m a man of responsibilities, right? I need money to take care of me and my own. So it’s my duty to nip those battles in the bud.”

Dameron blinked, looking utterly bemused.

_Clonedhead, what the…?_

That was the thought at the forefront of Dameron’s mind, but apparently he had still followed Slig’s monologue long enough to ask a follow-up. “But Hux destroyed all the other warlords. So why are you still listening in?”

“Pah!” Slig spat out. “That’s a Repie for you! All entitlement, you folks.” He turned back towards Kylo, giving him a look of fraternity that did more to grate on the Enforcer’s mood than all his speaking ever could. “I would never be so ungrateful, believe me my Lord!” He turned back towards Dameron, leaning into his personal space. “And I was right to, wasn’t I?” he challenged. “Y’a should be thanking me, I got you the info you wanted.”

“And we are very grateful,” Kylo cut in quickly. He’d had enough of this.

Digging into his pocket, he threw credits onto the table; he didn’t know how much he amounted to, but the information he got here put him in a good enough mood that he didn’t care. Moreover, he knew it would be enough to ensure Slig’s continued eagerness to please. “Until next time, Slig.”

With that, he took Dameron by arm, dislodging Slig from the bench as he did, and dragged him out of the cantina. Not that the pilot put up much of a fight; it was obvious he would never be returning here if he could.

He wouldn’t be missing much; the alcohol was truly deplorable.

“You _really_ trust the guy?” he asked again, once they were back on the street. It was uncharacteristically untrusting of him, but perhaps he simply didn’t want to fail his Senator.

“He wasn’t lying,” Kylo replied distractedly, focused more on pushing his way through the crowd to make his way to Tofa’s Hangar. “Slig is a slime of a man, an opportunist and a coward. He never aligned himself with any warlord, not until Hux came out on top. He won’t act against us, because we are still on top.”

“And he calls you Lord because...?”

“He’s a kiss-ass.”

Dameron snorted. “With those teeth and that breath, I wouldn’t let him.”

Kylo felt the corner of his lips twitch.

“Also, I’ve gotta asked: What are cloneheads?”

“Sheeps. Followers. Dumb people with no initiative. Most Imperials don’t really care for clones anymore.”

“That’s seems unfair. They’re not the only reason they lost.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Kylo replied airily. “They hate Organa as well.”

That shut Dameron up.

It had been Kylo’s intention, of course; the conversation had been getting dangerously chummy. Dameron was slyer than he thought, luring him through casual topics. Had it gone on any longer, he would have most certainly directed it back to Organa.

Kylo was pleased with himself, that he had managed to put a stop to things before it came to that. And if the silence between the two of them was less satisfying than it had been, well. Ignoring someone was simply more tiresome than it looked, is all.

When they arrived at Tofa’s hangar, they finally had a reprieve from any sort of crowd. Apart from a few spaceships and the mechanics working on them, the place was empty. As soon as they stepped through the rusted metal doors, a few of the workers turned their head towards them. One of them, a Sullustan woman, put her spanner on the ground and made her way towards them.

“What do you want?” she asked gruffly once she was close enough to be heard.

“We are looking for Tofa.”

“That’s me. Who’re you?” she asked, her eyebrowless brow pinching into a frown. “I know your face.”

“You would,” Kylo said, lifting his chin. “I represent Supreme Warlord Hux.”

“Ah.” Though her expression barely changed, her black eyes somehow became even less inviting. “And what can I do for him?” she asked, voice clipped as she crossed her arms.

The truth was, Kylo sometimes forgot that Hux wasn’t well-viewed in every part of the Outer Rim. The defeated, the cowards, the one that had taken from the fights for territory a hate for Imperials in general; they all spoke of him in hate or in contempt. The first was flattering, the second was an insult.

And this woman oozed contempt; in her mind, he was the same as any of the mediocre Imperials who had fancied themselves warlords.

Kylo exhaled loudly. Last time he killed someone in a fit of rage during a mission, Hux hadn’t let him leave again for nearly a month. Though he didn’t wish to kill this woman so much as punch her, he doubted the difference would matter much.

“This man came here about a month ago,” he said instead, handing to her his datapad. “We need to know where his ship was headed.”

She took the pad in hand, pursing her lips as she looked at the picture. “I didn’t work on that guy’s ship, so I can’t tell you anything. Hey Barl!” she shouted towards the back. “C’mere!”

A human man, young looking and covered in black smudge, came forward. “Yeah?”

“Do you know this guy?” she asked, all but shoving the pad in his face.

“Uh… oh wait, I think Finn worked on his ship for a bit. For an extra tip, I think.”

“Of course he did,” she mumbled, before turning back towards Kylo. “Finn’s in the back room, right that way,” she indicated, jerking her head. “Hope you find what you need.”

That last part wasn’t entirely honest, but at least it was polite.

Kylo and Dameron made their way towards the back, where they found a man working a broken down speeder. His dark skin was covered in darker smudges, and he was biting his lip in concentration as his hands were scrummaging through the machinery. He looked up when he heard them enter, blinking a few times as he took them in.

“Yes, can I help -ah!” the man – Finn, Kylo surmised - cut himself off when he caught sight of Kylo. His spine straightened visibly, though the gesture was not so much as sign of respect as a defensive stance.

Kylo barely cared at this point. “What do you know about this man?”

Finn took the pad, frowning. “Him? I worked on his ship. Did a few small repairs, plus extra when he agreed to it. It wasn’t much, really,” he concluded, giving the pad back.

“Do you know where he came from?”

“He didn’t tell me anything, just threw money at me.” Before Kylo could press him, he elaborated. “I did check his navigation systems though, as part of the service. He kept going back to Belderone, like every five days or so. So if you’re looking for him, I would start there.”

Almost immediately, Kylo scanned his mind for any sign of deceit. Not for the first time, he deplored the fact that his lack of training prevented him from looking in depth without breaking his victim’s mind.

It would look bad if he were to leave this one as a drooling mess.

Unlike Slig, he didn’t know Finn well-enough to be certain from just the surface thoughts, but his gut instinct told him he was telling him the truth. The man seemed incapable of hiding his emotions, and his apparent dislike for warlords in general made it unlikely that he was working for Favis.

Belderone, then. That was surprising.

Or perhaps not. As a planet with such positive sentiment towards Hux, it was also one of those with the least amount of monitoring. There were only so many men at Hux’s disposal, and he had to use them wisely. It was one of Hux’s chief complaints, when they were alone.

How grand it will be for him to learn that his complaints were completely founded.

Kylo nodded once, and pressed Finn for as many details as possible. It wasn’t much, but he did end up with a better idea of the man’s schedule, as well as some information on what other planets he had visited.

That done, he quickly entered that knowledge into his datapad; Hux always insisted on back up, and back up of back up.

“I’ll inform the Senator of all this,” Dameron announced as Kylo was finishing.

Kylo’s head snapped up. “What?”

“Look,” Dameron said reasonably. “I know you don’t trust us, and hard as it to say it, I can’t blame you. But Hux wants the Senate to help, and the best way for them to do that is if they are informed.” He sighed when Kylo still looked unconvinced. “Look, I won’t tell everyone, right? Just you… Just Senator Organa. You know she is trustworthy enough.”

Kylo didn’t care. Kylo didn’t want anything to do with her, didn’t even want her to have knowledge that came from him.

But Hux had decided otherwise, he thought bitterly, and Kylo didn’t relish the consequences if he acted directly against him.

“Fine.”

The threat behind Kylo’s agreement didn’t need to be voiced.

“You’re… you’re with the Republic?”

Dameron’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, and Kylo suppressed a hiss in irritations.

Finn was looking at them with such open awe, one that had been matched by his voice as he spoke of the Republic. Kylo felt such a surge of anger at the sight, far greater than the one Tofa’s hostility had inspired.

There was nothing grand about the Republic. The Republic had done nothing for a place like this, or for anyone here.

Dameron blinked. “Yes…?”

The look on Finn’s face was nothing short of wonder. “What’s it like?”

“Why do you ask?” Kylo snapped.

Finn startled, as if he had forgotten Kylo had been here at all. He met his angry gaze with a slightly fearful one of his own, before his expression suddenly shifted into one of defiance.  “I’ve been trying to make my way there for a while,” he stated, voice clipped and spine straight. “There aren’t many ships that go there from the Outer Rim. Most of them won’t take on a passage who can’t pay.”

“So that’s why you fix ships?” Dameron asked pleasantly.

Far too pleasantly, in fact; he was clearly making up for Kylo’s hostility.

“Yeah, uh… I mean… Just until I get enough money to go to the Republic.”

“Why do you want to go there so badly?”

This time, Finn openly glared at Kylo. “That’s none of your business.”

It didn’t have to be though, because memories came bubbling at the surface of Finn’s mind. Kylo didn’t even have to focus as he saw the images of blasters and battalions. He saw Finn falling to the ground to tend to a dying friend, looking up wildly for an escape that wasn’t there. A red faced man bellowing orders to his troops in disarray; Kylo recognized him as one of the warlords Hux defeated in his early days.

“You served under a warlord yourself, didn’t you?” It wasn’t a true question, so he didn’t wait for an answer. He laughed derisively. “Which one? Maybe I killed him.”

“Kylo,” Dameron said warningly.

“I said,” Finn replied through gritted teeth, “it’s none of your business.”

“All the warlords were either killed by Hux or killed each other, their armies with it,” Kylo continued. It was petty, but he had been very good at pushing his frustrations aside for the sake of this mission; he deserved an outlet. “You must be skilled enough. Rent your blaster for a year, you would have more than enough money.”

“I won’t kill people,” Finn snapped. “Not for money.”

“Your loss,” Kylo shrugged. He half-meant it, too: killing people is what allowed him to catch Hux’s attention in the first place. “You aren’t that good with mechanics, otherwise you would have earned enough by now. Tofa probably only still employs you because she shares your sentiment with warlord.”

“Maybe. What’s it to you, though? I’m not asking for anything.”

Kylo narrowed his eyes, and Finn met his glare with one of his own.

The room was silent.

“Is there anything else you know?” Kylo finally said when it was obvious the man wouldn’t back down.

Finn’s voice was a clipped as Kylo’s. “No.”

“Then we’re done here,” Kylo announced sharply, turning on his heels to make his way outside. He thought he heard Finn exhale in relief; it made him smile.

“You know what?” Dameron said from behind him. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

Fine, then. Kylo was way past caring.

It was fortunate that Tofa’s hangar was so close; had he needed to deal with the crowd on top of everything else, he would have most certainly lost it. When he entered his ship, the crew made leaps to avoid him, scurrying out of his way until he made it to the room that served as his quarters. Once there, he slumped on his chair and exhaled heavily.

This should have been an easy outing, yet he felt exhausted. He wanted to blame it all on Dameron, but there was also Tofa. Finn. Dealing with Slig, which was always a trial for patience. The Senate, Organa, nagging at the back of his brain no matter how much he tried not to think of them.

Hux.

Kylo exhaled heavily. There was a reason why he didn’t involve himself with his decisions; Hux had both skills and a taste for strategy, and Kylo did not. He found great satisfaction in being told the plan, knowing he was a vital element. To excel in his task, come back valuable and valued. To be feared by those on the battlefield, those who would cross his path; all those people who could have been on the marketplace and seen slaves in a cage.

He was strong. He had a place in this world. And it was all thanks to Hux.

Any complaint after that felt petty. It was the kind of behavior Lady Hux had often warned him against. Yet despite that, he still burned at Hux’s dismissals, and couldn’t fully bring himself to berate himself for it.

He sighed heavily. There was very little point on reflecting on what couldn’t be changed.

What he could do was complete the mission.

He made his way towards the holodeck, activating the communication system that would take him straight to Hux. Less than two seconds later, he appeared in hologram before him, and despite everything his heart gave a jump at the sight.

“Kylo,” Hux greeted as soon as communications were established. His voice was cordial, but professional. Kylo’s heart ached to hear it, for the distance between them now mirrored the one that had been present for the two weeks before his departure.

“Hux,” he breathed out. He tilted his head. “You cut your hair.”

It was more rewarding than it should be to see Hux blush in response. Kylo couldn’t see the cheeks reddening, for the beard was still present even if it was trimmed, but the now short hair gave him a full view of Hux’s ears, which were now a significant shade pinker.

“The strands kept getting caught in my eye,” Hux said defensively. “It was distracting.”

Kylo found it endearing. Hux cared much more about his appearance than he liked to admit, and he hated having attention drawn to that fact. But Kylo loved it, and more so now. Those peculiarities were Hux’s, not the Supreme Warlord’s, and he saw so little of the first one these days. “I like it,” he said with a smile, both teasing and honest.

It was almost funny how for all his cold confidence, Hux could be so disarmed by a compliment. “It’s practical,” he evaded, blush growing a shade darker.

Kylo’s smile grew, before faltering when Hux cleared his throat and forced the blush down. “Any news from Slig?”

And that distant tone was back. Kylo repressed the surge of angry disappointment. “Yes. I have it all on here,” he said instead, showing his holopad.

“Good. Transfer them to me, and I’ll act accordingly.”

“Of course.”

That was it then. Kylo bit the inside of his lip, and waited for Hux’s dismissal.

To his surprise, it didn’t come. Instead, Hux looked down. He took a deep breath, and when he looked back up his eyes were much less hard. His voice was stilted still; but rather than the military impersonality of before, this was much rawer.

“I know I’ve been harsh, lately,” he started, halting in odd places as he seemed to struggle with his words.

Kylo swallowed. “Yeah,” he said neutrally. Then, because he didn’t want to sound as if he had thought about it too much, because he didn’t want to sound petty, he added: “You’ve been preoccupied.”

“Indeed. Just when I think that the life-long fight is over, _Favis_ comes and…” Hux cut himself off, looking away with a sigh as he ran his hand through his hair. When he spoke again, he had managed to move away from his rising anger, and spoke with a different kind of outrage altogether. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll crush him again.” He turned towards Kylo again, eyes boring into his. “ _We’ll_ crush him.”

That was as close to an apology as he was going to get, Kylo knew. Hux had his pride, and his limitations.

Still, it was more than anyone else would ever receive. Kylo nodded, smiled softly; making Hux know that he had understood, and that he accepted the apology.

The barely concealed relief on Hux’s face was more of a balm than any sweet words might have inspired. Only Kylo could summon such a reaction, and the knowledge filled him with confidence and warmth.

“Do hurry home, Kylo,” Hux murmured, allowing his eyes to express the same longing as his words.

“Why? Have you missed me?” Kylo teased.

“The camp has been much less noisy since your departure,” Hux retorted rationally. He looked down. “I feel that void keenly.”

Kylo let out a shocked breath, one that had been forced out of his lungs by the swelling of his heart. “I leave in minutes at most.”

“Then you’ll be back in five hours.” Hux nodded his head in confirmation of his own words. “I’ll have Roll prepare you a bath.”

“Good idea. I feel dirty after speaking to Slig.”

That made Hux chuckle. “I put you through so much, don’t I?” he cooed. “You deserve a reward.”

“Join me in the bath, then.”

“Was that ever in question?” Hux asked in mock innocence. He smirked as Kylo chuckled, before letting his face dissolve into a much softer expression. “I will see you soon.”

“Yes,” Kylo breathed out, and watched as the hologram flickered away.

He felt much lighter as he made his way to the comlink, and though he always made sure to speak with confidence, he found that he meant it as well as projected it.

“We leave as soon as Dameron in on board,” he announced, cutting off the link without waiting for a reply.

He couldn’t wait to go back home.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up for updates: the once every three week schedule is still on hold for now. That being said, in two weeks I am starting an internship that begins at 7am in a hospital that's 45 minutes away. Added to that that I need to study in the afternoon, I have no idea how much energy I'll have left at the end of the day.  
> One chapter every three weeks still seems doable right now, but that may change again if I'm not able to keep up. Sorry guys! 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr at courgette96.tumblr.com!


	4. Hux II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... that was longer than three weeks. At least I got it out before the month ended!
> 
> Warning: this chapter is smut, lack of communication and feelings all wrapped in one 8k mess.
> 
> As usual, this was betaed by the lovely Wren_ofthewildwood.

“Supreme Warlord,” Belderone’s Magistrate stammered. His voice hitched in time with the flicker of his projection on the holodesk, which despite being the newest one in the compound was still thirty years old. “Rebels, on… on our planet? A-are you quite certain?”

“Do you think I would come to you if I wasn’t?” Hux snapped. Perhaps not the most diplomatic response when speaking to a loyal vassal, but the man’s eagerness to please had already transformed into some low-key terror of failure. Hux was in no mood to soothe that fear. “Do you think my people incompetent?”

The man nearly tripped over himself trying to salvage his blunder. “I do not mean to imply anything of the sort. Belderone had always had great faith in your leadership and rule.” He smiled then, a strained thing that did little to placate and much to annoy. “It is for that reason that I find it hard to believe that there are any dissidents among us.”

Hux reclined in his chair. “Tell me, Magistrate,” he said slowly, voice dripping with condescension. “Do you control every single individual that comes to or leaves your land?”

“No, I…”

“Do you listen in on every conversation in every building, every hour of the day?”

“…No, but…”

“Then I would say it is more than possible that individuals _hostile_ to my dominion have established camp on your planet, while you remained completely unawares.” Hux’s voice had slowed down during those last two words, stressing them carefully. He tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing into a near-glare. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” The Magistrate looked suitably sheepish. Hux felt placated enough to give him time to recompose himself. A good thing, too: a deep breath later, and the man’s demeanor had changed entirely. His spine was straighter, his voice more level if still strained, and Hux was reminded that the Magistrate was competent, for all his groveling.

“I will look into it immediately,” he assured Hux. “All our resources will be put into action.”

Hux nodded. “That is all I ask.”

The Magistrate put a fist over his heart, forming the traditional salute of his system of origin. “I can only hope that you do not take this incident as a reflection of Belderone’s loyalty. We do not forget our debt to you, Hut-slayer.”

“I did not doubt that for a moment,” Hux replied coolly. If he had, this conversation would have gone very differently. “Goodbye, Magistrate.”

The blueish light flickered out as Hux ended the call. Not two seconds later, Hux let his head fall back with a sigh. It hit the back of his chair uncomfortably, but he really couldn’t care less in that moment.

One step closer to Favis. He tried to remind himself of that, hoping it would ease the tension setting in his shoulders.

It didn’t work, of course. Because no matter how much progress he made in his hunt, it still wouldn’t erase the humiliation of needing to find the man in the first place.

Favis was mediocre; a relic from the Empire that had only ever been in an officer through nepotism, and had only kept the men under his command because they had been too frightened by their sudden change in status to reject the familiarity of serving under him.

Hux had crushed him in his early years, long before the Outer Rim had bowed to him. With fewer men and less training, he had obliterated Favis’ army. It hadn’t even been one of his greatest victories.

 Favis was a nothing of a man, who wouldn’t have risen from his fall without the Republic to do all the work for him.

Hux’s lips pulled back into a sneer at the thought.

Two weeks in, and still no progress on that front. Not that it was surprising; he doubted those complacent Senators were in any rush to involve themselves in the Rim. It was just as well that he didn’t truly need them, no matter how much he enjoyed extorting them.

He couldn’t wait for the Republic to make up its mind; even if it did decide to clean up its mess – and that was hardly a given – any second loss he waited was another second in Favis’ favor. He had a lead, he wasn’t going to let it slip by waiting around for some theoretical technological assistance.

If the Republic did end up giving him ships to match Favis’, he’d use them to hunt down whatever dispersed remains were left after this main attack.

If it didn’t, well… There was nothing to be done right now than milk the moral high ground for all their future interactions. And remember the offense.

Neither of which were satisfying outcomes.

Hux sighed heavily, pinching his brow. No matter how much resolve he may show, he was still behind these events, doing damage control instead of mastering his future. Favis’ return had thrown off an otherwise glorious assent, and now all his work went into simply trying to return to how things were. Such a pathetic goal to have.

All because he hadn’t seen this coming; all because he wasn’t prepared. He should have been.

Control was key in all things. Without it, everything unraveled so fast.

The holodeck’s notification chimed. The communication request flared up.

Hux saw who it was making the call, and very reluctantly accepted it.

“Supreme Warlord!” Silais said brightly. He bowed lowly, in a caricature of deference. His lekkus bounced with his every movement. “How fortunate for me to find you so eager to answer my call!”

“You have two minutes, Luroon,” Hux replied coolly. Silais was the type that liked to hear himself talk; that made one of them.

“And eager to get to business! I will only need one.” He cleared his throat. “The Senate will _finally_ convene in two days – and really, I forget sometimes how long things take without an overlord to push them along. Though of course, we are lucky to have a leader as benevolent and competent as you.”

Over the years, Hux had learned to bear Silais’ affectations, the result of the Twi’lek’s natural temperament and years spent as an entertainer in a second-rate cabaret. It didn’t mean he didn’t hate them. “If that is all, Silais, it will be my pleasure to cut this call short.”

“I also have a message from Organa,” Silais added. His tone turned knowing. “If you wish to hear it, that is.”

Hux grit his teeth. “Tell me.”

“She wished for me to tell you that no matter the outcome of the hearing, Dameron is not to be harmed. If he is, the Republic will retaliate; she will make sure of it.”

Hux barely swallowed a hiss of irritation. It wouldn’t do for him to display any sort of reaction in front of Luroon, even one as safe as anger. He trusted Silais to do his duty, but at the end of the day he was still his mother’s man. Most of his tasks were done of Lady Hux’s command, while Hux himself only borrowed him when needed.

Really, the only man that was truly entirely his was Kylo.

“What shall I tell her in return?”

“Nothing,” Hux spat out. “Let her wallow in self-righteousness if she desires; I am under no obligation to humor her.” An idea came to mind, pushed by loathing and frustration. He smiled nastily. “Upon further reflection, tell her that I will do my best to reign in my Enforcer, despite his tendency to take initiative on those matters.”

Silais hummed, smirking as he tilted his head to the side. “How very cruel of you.”

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion. In fact, I like you best silent.”

“You said I had two minutes, yet have given me four. I rather think you have a soft spot for me.”

Hux raised a single eyebrow. “Be glad my mother took such a shine on you.” She had been the one to convince Hux to spare the newly discovered stowaway, allegedly because she found him amusing. Hux believed she simply liked the idea of having someone indebted to her. It made for loyal help. “If it hadn’t been for her, your mouth would have you killed in minutes.”

It was a moot point now though; Silais had proved far too useful in his own way for Hux to get rid of him now. Still, Silais had the good sense to look chastised. “I live by the Lady’s graces,” he said humbly. “And yours.”

His somber expression dissolved immediately afterwards. Hux wasn’t surprised. “And with that, I’ve finished my report.” He gave an exaggerated bow. “Is there any other way I may be of service?”

Hux turned off the holocom.

The silence that followed was blissful, but only for a moment.

A beat later, recent events caught up to him once more, and Hux groaned as he contemplated just how long it would take for the Magistrate to come back with the necessary intelligence. Not long, hopefully. Belderone was one of the Outer Rim’s more advanced planets, and he truly did not doubt their loyalty.

Whatever the case, it wouldn’t be soon enough. He had planned as much as he could with the information at hand, but it still wasn’t enough. Without detailed knowledge of Favis’ location, he couldn’t finish his strategies. There was nothing to do but wait, and while Hux was a patient man, he hated being dependent on someone else’s competence. He rarely believed in it.

And Kylo still wasn’t home, wouldn’t be for a couple of hours yet.

Hux sighed heavily, rubbing his palm against his eyes.

It felt like forever since he had last seen Kylo. Not that the two of them had been separated, but Hux had been caught in the whirlwind of planning a counterstrike against Favis. Kylo could devise strategies, but not on the scale Hux was operating on, so he had not been present during most of the day. Hux had been too lost in his anger and frustration to recognize another cause of discontent.

It had only been when he had sent Kylo away that he had realized how much he had missed him these past two weeks.

It was a thoroughly unpleasant feeling.

It was made worse by Kylo’s entire demeanor when he made the holocall to report his findings, though it ended on a far more positive note than Hux could have hoped. Kylo had acted so dejected, forcing a neutrality to his voice that did nothing to hide the hurt. It had been Hux’s fault, Organa’s too, but Organa wasn’t the one Kylo would blame and–

Hux cut himself off with a frown.

Kylo was fine. He was coming back.

All Hux had to do was wait.

Kriff, he _hated_ waiting.

With a huff, he left the room, pulling himself away from the holodesk and simulations to make his way towards his quarters. If he tried getting any more work done in his current state of mind, he would be more likely to ruin his current plans than improve them.

He entered his quarters, hoping that some alternative would become self-evident when he did. Instead, all he saw was a well-furnished room that somehow seemed devoid of anything worthwhile.

He made his way towards the small bookshelf in the corner, hoping to find some book to peak his interest. He had read them all several times already; as much as he enjoyed reading, acquiring new books was hardly a priority. The result was a mismatched ensemble of history books, technological guides and purple prose romantic novels that always seemed to pop up despite his best efforts – he suspected Kylo had a hand in it, though he never caught him in the act.

And really, if it made him happy, it was a small thing to tolerate.

He ended up selecting one of the oldest books in his collection, and settled himself on the couch. It was a dry text detailing the geographical outlay of Arkanis.

It had been his father’s. One of the few possessions left to Brendol Hux when he passed away. No one had wanted it, most likely. No one except Brendan, who had been old enough to understand that his survival rested on staying in that man’s good graces, yet young enough to believe that safekeeping that meager belonging would be enough to do so.

And then the man died, and they never made it to the rainy planet. Yet Hux kept the book – he didn’t know what else to do with it, dared not get rid of it. He hadn’t known then that the dead didn’t care what happened to their books.

He had learned to read on this one. In part, at least; Lady Hux would make him practice to keep him busy during long shuttle flights, and he would read of the valleys and humidity of a planet that might have been home.

The door slammed, making Hux startle and look up sharply. His heart swelled when he saw the familiar figure standing in the doorway. His hair unkempt, his eyes dark, carelessly throwing his jacket on the floor after taking out the vibroblade stashed in the hidden pocket.

“Kylo..” he breathed out, before trailing off when Kylo ignored him completely. He stalked towards the wooden table near a plush red chair, and with a roar slammed the blade in its surface.

Chips of wood flew off from the impact, a few of them hitting Kylo, who didn’t seem to notice. His hand was shaking with rage as he extended it, fingers clawing as a metal ash tray began curling into itself. The iron screech horrible as the once fine object became a formless lump. With a roar, Kylo hurled it towards the wall. He didn’t even wait to see it hit it and roll on the floor before he began tearing up something else, this time a wooden chair.

Well then.

Usually, Hux had very little patience with Kylo’s tantrums; tonight though, watching Kylo direct his rage at inanimate objects was a welcome sight. It was like some testament of permanence, where no matter what came or went, Kylo would always end up in Hux’s quarters, breaking something.

Two weeks ago, Hux wouldn’t have believed that thought could have been pleasant. Though to be fair, he never really cared for that chair in the first place.

Moreover, Kylo was being considerate enough that he was focusing on breaking down individual objects, rather than tearing up the room. It was only when the chair was well and truly shattered that Hux intervened. By then, Kylo had already made his way towards a cigar box Hux owned, made of wood and lined with Twi’lek silk. A gift from the Governor of a vassal planet, a completely frivolous object, but one that Hux was quite fond of.

“I had a very nice evening planned for us,” he said from his place on the couch, finally shutting his book and letting it drop to the floor. “Don’t ruin it by trashing the place.”

Kylo didn’t openly acknowledge him, but he did put down the cigar box. “I’m going to destroy him. I swear I will.” he seethed. “To think I almost thought he…” He turned towards Hux, eyes shining with fury. “Say that I can.”

Hux raised an eyebrow. “Who are we talking about, precisely?”

“Dameron.”

“Again? What about him?”

“He’s a righteous piece of shit.”

“Yes, for quite some time, from what I’ve gathered,” Hux deadpanned. “I thought you’d have noticed.”

Kylo ignored the jibe. “He should be in a cell. Or dead.”

“Well, we all have hopes and dreams, but-”

“He smuggled someone in.”

Hus stopped cold. “Pardon?”

“The crew didn’t stop them!” Kylo cried out defensively – as if Hux would blame him for this. “They both just walked into the ship, and no one stopped them because they looked too confident doing so!” He looked to the side and began muttering furiously. “They didn’t want to disturb me, they said, those kriffing bantha…”

“Kylo.”

Kylo’s head snapped up at the mention of his name, making him meet Hux’s level gaze. Hux didn’t speak until he was certain he had the temperamental man’s entire attention, knowing that imposing some focus on Kylo would also lead him to calm down. “Who is it he brought along?”

“Some nobody,” Kylo said stiffly. “A failed mechanic, but one who has a hardon for the Republic.” His lips pulled into a humorless smile. “Dameron was probably flattered.”

Years of practice allowed Hux to keep a composed façade. Control and self-control were key in all things, both in dealing with a situation and keeping Kylo’s anger from flaring again.

But oh, how he wished to march out and find that pilot. Have an example made of him, show the entire Outer Rim that Hux was not someone who could be so undermined. His control over his troupes was absolute, and Dameron would pay for his daring and…

And then the Republic would no longer have any incentive to give into his demands. It might retaliate, as Organa had promised. They would be armed with their lingering hate for the old Empire, and their newly remilitarized forces from the war on Snoke, and there would be no way for Hux to come out the winner of a situation where he was so clearly outgunned.

Did Organa know, for her warning to be so well timed? Dameron couldn’t have told her, he didn’t have any means of communication – or at least, he hadn’t when he left, and Hux hoped Kylo had been careful enough to make sure he didn’t receive any. Or maybe she had sensed it, through the Force she apparently had some affinity to. Or perhaps Dameron was much savvier than he looked; perhaps…

Hux breathed heavily.

Whatever the case, it was a situation that had to be dealt with; yet Hux refused to let Dameron ruin his evening. He needed this as much as Kylo did.

Perhaps he could let him stew for one night; let him think he had gotten away with it. He would act in the morning, once he had time to think of a proper plan.

 _Or perhaps,_ his mind suggested in a voice that sounded suspiciously like his mother’s, _you could use the qualified subordinates you have accumulated over the years, and take the rest you know you need._

Hux truly hated the fact that his mother’s voice would be the one that suggested such advice. He hated it even more that this wasn’t the first time.

It didn’t help that that mental incarnation had been right more often than not. Lady Hux would be so smug if she knew.

Still, he made his way towards his personal holopad, resting on the table. Only the highest ranking in his army had one for their own use. In a few quick taps, he sent a message to his most trusted.

“There,” he declared. He turned off the pad as a way to remind himself that he wasn’t going to use it tonight. “It’s dealt with.”

Hux couldn’t see Kylo’s face, but he knew from his voice alone that he was almost comically surprised. He tended to be whenever Hux managed to bring himself to delegate. “What did you do?”

“I gave them over to Phasma. She’ll make sure they are put to use or put away.” She had overseen her own army before swearing allegiance to Hux; out of all his officers, she was the best placed to deal with this.

Satisfied with his decision – or as satisfied as he could be – he turned towards Kylo again. “Come here,” he said, extending his hands towards him.

As soon as Kylo’s hand was in his, he pulled the two of them down on the couch. Kylo grunted slightly in surprise, but didn’t fight Hux as his head was tucked under Hux’s chin.

Hux buried his face into Kylo’s hair, and tightened his grip around his waist. He could feel Kylo grow heavier and heavier as he slowly relaxed against him. The weight was relaxing, more so for the heat radiating off his lover’s body and the hand that had come to rest right over Hux’s heart.

For a long time, he let himself think of nothing but of the smell of Kylo’s hair, the slight tickle of it as it flew with his every breath. He could feel the rise and fall of Kylo’s chest, slightly desynchronized with his own.

Their heartbeats, though, were perfectly in time.

“Our bath is getting cold,” he whispered, when both their breath had slowed down and he had filled his mind with enough of Kylo that the rest of his churning thoughts could be temporarily placed aside.

Kylo said nothing, merely exhaled heavily as he sat himself up. He took Hux’s hand and pulled him up, brushing his thumb against the inside of his wrist as he did so.

They made their way towards the bathroom, a nearly obscenely large room with a disproportionate bath. The Hutt that had owned the place had apparently enjoyed dipping himself in water – Hux doubted he actually _washed_ – and so had had constructed a room that would accommodate both his size and his taste for luxury.

Before Kylo had been by his side, Hux had found the bathtub ridiculously big.

Now, with this ridiculously big man, it was perfect.

Hux saw Kylo smile as he looked upon the slightly steaming water, his hand already darting up to remove his shirt. He startled when Hux intercepted it, slowly bringing it down by his waist.

His gaze wasn’t questioning though. It was understanding, and the small smile that graced his features told Hux he knew exactly what he was going to ask. Still, Hux didn’t feel the need to rush as his hands trailed up Kylo’s chest, caressing it as they made their way towards the two clasps that closed the collar of Kylo’s shirt.

“Let me,” he asked softly, toying with the slightly rough fabric that edged along the fluttering skin on the neck.

Without waiting for a response, he undid the first clasp. When Kylo didn’t stop him, he undid the second. He reached down towards the edge of the shirt, pulled it over Kylo’s head to reveal his toned chest.

There was a certain peace in doing this slowly. He could let his hands trail over Kylo’s skin as he kneeled to untie his boots, feel the heat radiate off him as he unclasped his pants. He could witness Kylo give in entirely, moving as Hux directed him, sighing in contentment as each layer was peeled off him. When he stepped out of the pool of clothing on the floor, he reached out towards Hux, and Hux could feel worlds of reverence in Kylo’s hands as they returned the favor.

When they were both naked, Kylo stepped into the tub first, humming in pleasure as he sank into the warm water.

“Aren’t you coming in?” he asked, drawing his legs against his chest, a playful smirk on his lips.

“In a moment.”

Hux made his way to a tray in the corner of the room, where a bottle of wine and a single cup rested. He poured a generous amount in the glass – one that would be far too full by his mother’s Imperialistic standards – and made his way back towards Kylo.

His lover’s eyes shined with satisfaction as he eyed the cup in Hux’s hand.

“Only one glass?” he asked curiously. He obediently took it in hand when Hux gave it to him, watching with rapt intention as Hux stepped into the tub with him.

“Yes,” Hux answered simply, taking the cup back in hand. He brought it to Kylo’s lips, and watched with a soft glow of pleasure as they parted open to accept the wine.

Kylo’s eyes never left his as he drank, just a small sip, and when Hux pulled the cup away he licked his lips, which had been pulled back into a fond smirk.

“How doting of you.”

Hux brought the cup to his own lips, hiding a smile he knew would show in his eyes. “I have my moments.”

“Or whims.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Force no,” Kylo retorted, leaning closer as Hux brought the cup to his lips again. A stray drop pearled at the corner of his lips.

Hux couldn’t resist the urge to kiss it away. He felt Kylo smile as he did, a slow stretch of the lips that lasted even after Hux pulled away. A few drops of water peppered his face in a complement to his moles.

Hux wanted to kiss every single one away.

“I love the way you look at me,” Kylo said softly, leaning closer until his left hand rested upon Hux’s chest.

Hux breathed out a chuckle. “So you’ve said before.”

“But I do,” Kylo insisted earnestly. His fingers came up to Hux’s cheekbone, slowly trailing over them as if to underline his eye. “And I know I said after fights, but it’s not just that. All the time, you look at me like I’m the best thing in the world and I…” He swallowed, eyes dropping slightly. He spoke his next words like a confession. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“I’m not sure I would know how,” Hux whispered back, bringing Kylo’s fingers to his lips and kissing them. It seemed only fair that he would give a confession in return.

It was something he had long ago accepted, but it pained him to think that Kylo somehow didn’t know. After all these years, surely he must have realized?

Kylo didn’t say anything in response; his smile, full of a joy and relief that made Hux’s heart ache, was answer enough.

It was mercy then, that Kylo didn’t let them linger in this tender moment. He gently pulled his hand out of Hux’s grasp. His large fingers caressed Hux’s cheek as they made their way up to his hair. They raked over his scalp in a pleasant scratch; Hux’s hair was too short for him to properly comb through.

“This feels strange,” Kylo mused quietly as his fingers came to stroke the back of Hux’s neck.

Hux hummed. “Do you still like it?”

“Yeah,” Kylo answered, hands stopping their caress to simply cup the nap of his neck. “I can’t tug at it anymore, though.”

“Shame. I think I’ll miss that.”

Kylo breathed out a laugh, leaning forward to place his head in the crook of Hux’s neck. He draped himself over Hux like a blanket, legs tangled in his as his arms wrapped around Hux’s chest. Even in the water, he was a heavy weight on Hux’s chest.

Hux loved it, really. He loved the idea of being encircled like that, loved the slight pressure that came with it. He loved the feeling of safety that came with both.

That last part he would never say out loud, but within his own mind it was safe to confess it. To enjoy it too.

With his arms wrapped Kylo’s chest, the warm water surrounding them, Hux could very well get lost in the moment.

Or rather, he would have been able had Kylo not decided to nip at his neck at that precise moment. A slight brush of the lips, a light kiss, then a flash of teeth that made his breath hitch and his arms tighten reflexively around Kylo’s waist.

His lover seemed to take in as an encouragement – and to be fair, he wasn’t _wrong_ – and moved to have more leverage. Straddling Hux’s waist, he continued his assault on Hux’s necks, kisses and small bites that made Hux unconsciously tip his head back. Out of habit, he bit his lips and closed his eyes tightly, swallowing the sounds forming in the back of his throat.

An effort that became moot when Kylo’s lips latched onto the crook of Hux’s neck, and sucked so hard that Hux’s eyes flew open and he let out a gasp that made Kylo smile in satisfaction.

“Kylo,” he half-breathed out, half-yelped. It was an odd sound, and only became even odder when it dissolved into a moan. “Kylo, stop.”

“No,” Kylo mumbled, not stopping his assault. “I shan’t. You’re naked against me.”

Oh good. Hux hadn’t meant it anyway.

“You’ve done this to me clothed too,” he chuckled instead, running his hand up and down Kylo’s back.

Kylo smiles against his skin. “I love you so much,” he sighed, contentment lacing his every word.

Hux gasped. Kylo always tossed those words so freely, and so often caught Hux off guard with the shear honest joy behind them. In those moments, he always gasped, or moaned, or blushed, and had to struggle against the sudden swell of his heart to breathe out two words in answer. “I know.”

A warmer man would say the words back. Hux was not warm; he was strong. He was not born of royalty, could not rest of claimed riches and loyalty. He could not show weakness through sentiment.

Not like Organa, who wore her heart on her sleeve, like Kylo. Who was so open in her affections, like Kylo. Who had looked at her son with such open longing, the kind Hux knew Kylo craved and-

He caught Kylo’s face and pulled him into a kiss, cutting off his own thoughts with swift efficiency. Kylo moaned in surprised, but responded in kind, and Hux’s mind sang at the feeling of hands raking through his hair and teeth nipping at his lip.

He pulled back for air, briefly, before kissing Kylo once more. And again, and once more.

“Tell me you know it too,” he said against Kylo’s lips, frantic in his words and kisses.

“That I love you?” Kylo teased, eyes sparkling with mirth.

But Hux couldn’t laugh at the joke right now. His desperation to hear Kylo say what he so wanted to hear was far too great. “Kylo….” he repeated, dangerously close to a plea.

Hux’s hands were almost scrambling now, all to bring Kylo that much closer.

“I know,” Kylo said softly, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I know you love me.”

He sounded sincere. Hux so wanted him to be.

If Kylo knew that Hux loved him, truly knew it, then surely he wouldn’t… if he knew how much Hux would hurt if…

But there was no way to know for sure. Not without asking again, insisting, sounding far too needy for Hux to stomach.

So he kissed Kylo again, closing the subject within his own mind. The kiss was slower this time, though not by much, and as he leaned back against the ledge of the tub he dragged Kylo down with him.

With his eyes closed, he could lose himself in it. In the feeling of Kylo’s cock brushing against his own, Kylo’s hands wrapping around him. Sliding down his ass. Grabbing it.

Then, in a flash, he felt himself be hoisted up in strong arms and carried away as Kylo stumbled out of the bathtub. His balance was off, and so he ended up pressing Hux hard against the wall to keep them both from falling.

“Ky…” he groaned half-heartedly, never stopping his kisses as he did so.

“The water was getting cold,” Kylo breathed out, utterly unrepentant and, Hux suspected, not really paying attention at all.

It wasn’t true. Hux knew it wasn’t true, and he fully intended on saying something about it. For principle's sake.

Kylo’s hands came up to toy with Hux’s nipple, and Hux decided that principles could go fuck themselves.

Somehow, Kylo managed to let Hux off the wall without stopping their rhythm, and the two stumbled into the living room. The initial objective had been to get to the bedroom, but their legs got tangled into each other and they fell onto the floor. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hux noted that one of the servants had had the foresight to litter the floor with rugs and pillows. He vowed to find whoever was responsible and give them a promotion.

Kylo took advantage of their momentum to pin Hux under him, straddling his hip, rutting ever so slightly against him with a hungry grin on his face. For all his love of immediate gratification, he could be very patient when it came to making Hux squirm.

And squirm Hux did, if only to feel how tightly Kylo’s thighs held him. He arched his back, bucked his hips, if only to see those dark eyes turn darker still from lust.

Hux wanted Kylo. It was only fair that Kylo want him back.

He did though, Hux knew. It was one of his favorite things about Kylo, how open he was.

At least towards Hux. Had to teach him some deception, had to learn the sabak face, but that was only for enemies. Only for outsiders.

For Hux, Kylo shouted everything. His loyalty, his anger, his love, and Hux loved it. Kylo’s emotions were far too big for him, pouring out of him in waves, and Hux was only too happy to collect all of it, the proof of Kylo’s presence in Hux’s life, at Hux’s side.

His body was the same. Hux loved it too. An exercise in excess, broad shoulders and over developed muscles, long legs and wild hair, all of which screamed his presence to Hux’s wandering fingers.

There were scars, too, which Hux both adored and resented, for they told tales of Kylo’s bravery, devotion, and shitty decision making.

The slightly rounded scar on his flank, where a blaster had hit him as he went to give back-up to Phasma’s troops. He had just learned how to stop blaster bolts, had overestimated his capabilities, and so one of them had escaped his control and hit its target. The battle had been won though, largely thanks to him, and so Hux had decided not to berate him as the medics worked to heal the wound as best they could. (Besides, as soon as he had gotten to Kylo’s bedside, his lover had pulled him in for a kiss, and so Hux had been more concerned with angling his body in a way that wouldn’t impede the medics’ progress.)

Still, recklessly flying into battle while poorly assessing his capabilities had been one of Kylo’s better moments. The thought came with a strange combination of fondness, exasperation and terror as Hux’s eyes came to rest on Kylo’s face, on the scar that cut a clear line between both halves, from his brow to the crook of his neck.

Kylo had been so eager to build his own lightsaber, even when the kyber crystal he had found had been cracked. And if he hadn’t been in the middle of the compound when the malfunction happened, if the exploding plasma beam had been angled in a slightly different manner, if the medics hadn’t been able to save his eye…

“You’re thinking again.”

Hux blinked, Kylo’s words pulling him back to the moment at hand. He hadn’t realized his hand had come to trail over the thick, pink scar, or that he had been biting his lips as he did so. He didn’t usually get carried away in such brooding thoughts, or at least, not to this extent. He didn’t know why he was now.

(That was a lie. He knew exactly why. It was the same reason that had been plaguing him for two weeks now.)

“I…” Hux started.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to say next, but it didn’t matter. Kylo interrupted him with a kiss. It was quick, and light, yet Hux couldn’t shake off the unwelcome, heavy feeling that had taken hold of him.

Such feelings weren’t echoed in Kylo’s eyes, which sparkled with affection and mischievous mirth.

“I’ll make you stop,” Kylo promised, lips brushing against his before he began kissing his way down Hux’s body.

“Stop thinking?” Hux scoffed, even as he was squirming from Kylo’s attention. “Good luck with th- _ah!_ ”

Having Kylo’s mouth around his cock proved to be a valiant effort on his lover’s part: Hux’s thoughts did stutter momentarily. His mind was blank as his hands shot down to grab Kylo’s hair. Somewhere in the back of his mind was the dimly formulated thought that Kylo might take umbrage to the gesture.

But then his lover moaned, loudly, so Hux assumed he was fine with it.

Kriff, that moan. That _voice._ Kylo’s voice sounded so sinful, deep and soft, near meditative in the way he spoke his words. Except when he was angry; words spat out in a growl, barely coherent as they melded with hoarse shouts and physical outbursts. Such tantrums Kylo could pull. Such a child, his lover could be.

Not the innocent child Organa seemed determined to see him as. Hux had no idea if that child ever existed, but if it had then years of slavery would have destroyed him utterly. Hux had seen it himself, the first day they met. Saw him smug and defiant standing over the dead bodies of three of Hux’s men that thought they might take advantage of a slave in chains.

Hux’s arousal shot up as he remembered that image. His fingers clenched even tighter around Kylo’s hair, his gasping grew louder as he lost himself in the memory.

Kylo snarling, chained but proud. Blood on his chin from biting the neck of his would be aggressors. A near animalistic look that had awakened Hux’s lust. Because red on white skin and black hair was lovely, because all that blatant violence spoke of such potential, and power, and a drive to fight. And oh, how he fought, brutal and skilled and always so exhilarated.

Kylo’s hand came up to cup Hux’s testicles, tugging at them ever so slightly. Hux’s shout was both from the pleasure of it and the anger that accompanied his straying thoughts.

Organa thought herself righteous, thought herself a benevolent and spurned mother, but she didn’t understand. She didn’t understand that the lost little boy she so mourned had disappeared into something _better._ She had no claim to him anymore, no right to give him longing looks when she didn’t even know him and-

And Kylo’s mouth pulled away entirely, making Hux cry out in loss. He snapped his head down to look at him, his glare doing a poor job to hide his frustration.

He was just about to demand that Kylo _get on with it_ when he took in Kylo’s face, the raised eyebrow and the strange crook of his lips that brought to mind both a pout and a smirk.

 “You’re still thinking,” he stated, half-dejected and half in awe. “Unbelievable.”

Hux bit his lips, swallowing down the urge to apologize.

He had nothing to apologize for, he told himself. His capacity to think has made his Supreme Warlord of the Outer Rim. There was absolutely no reason he should stop now.

Though, admittedly, thinking of Organa while Kylo was sucking his cock was not an optimal use of his mind. But the despised lady has been resting heavily upon it for a while now, and there seemed little he could do to avoid it.

Kylo, who thank fuck had obviously not been ready his mind, seemed to disagree.

“I know what you need,” he whispered. He grinned a grin that could only be described as savage.

“Do you? Because your mouth still isn’t – Kylo!”

Kylo’s large hands grabbed Hux’s hips, flipping him over roughly. The rugs did a good job cushioning the impact, but Hux was still left disoriented and breathless. A large, well-slicked finger came to tease his entrance – when did Kylo even get the lube? -  and Hux barely had the time to grip the rug beneath him before Kylo slowly breached him.

And Hux moaned. _Loudly._

The finger was large, so large, even when there was only one. Kylo’s free hand was on the small of Hux’s back, keeping him from thrusting up, and so all Hux could do was make pant and grunt and clench his fist around the rug. It had been a long time since he had been the one that was taken, and though he hadn’t _forgotten_ how it felt, he couldn’t help but bask in a loud yet delighted surprise at just how full he felt already.

He made another sound when Kylo crooked his finger, one that echoed in his mind and called upon a memory. Usually, his mind was far too organized for such things, but this time it shifted into the past, when he had been six. Or was it seven?

He had been young, was the point, and had just found a small kitten under a pile of ratty clothes. He had cried out in surprise, because he had never seen a cat before; in delight, because the kitten was ginger, _just like him_ , and it had been the greatest of gifts and the holiest of signs.

He had brought the little thing back to Lady Hux – he had still been in a nebulous stage where he adored the woman, feared her a little, thought her his mother and didn’t know if she felt the same. And Lady Hux, ever pragmatic and efficient, had still let him keep it. He didn’t know why she had; he hadn’t dared ask at the time.

Kylo crooked his finger, making Hux gasp. He chuckled, and Hux blushed.

There was a strange divide in his mind: part of him was reveling in Kylo’s touch, in the feeling of his fingers inside him; the other couldn’t stop spinning though, churning thought after thought with no control over the subject.

But stars, he had loved that cat. With all the obsessive passion of a six-year-old who had little else in the world.

What had he named it again?

It didn’t matter, really, because he hadn’t been allowed to keep it. He had loved the kitten, had named it, but another boy had wanted it. The son of some local tradesman, far more established, far more secure than the bastard son of a dead Imperial. His mother had needed to enter into his good graces, and what better way than through his child?

He couldn’t blame her. He knew it then.

But how he had loved that c- _ah!_

Kylo had added a second of his obscenely large fingers.

Hux decided it was time to stop thinking about cats, ginger or otherwise.

Granted, it wasn’t a conscious decision so much as an inevitable consequence of having his prostate so deliciously stimulated. Hux could feel his hips bucking up to meet Kylo’s fingers – and thank fuck they weren’t pinned down by Kylo’s hand anymore.

He moaned again, much louder than any other time tonight. And again, and again, and on top of the fingers scissoring him open he could feel the satisfaction rolling off Kylo.

“That’s it Hux,” Kylo whispered in his ear, adding a third finger. “That’s it, Bren.”

Hux had no idea how long it lasted. He didn’t care, really, but his cock was hard and leaking, and his arms were trembling from the strain of keeping himself upright. And he needed more. More hands on his skin, more whispers in his ears, more kisses and sighs and dark eyes upon him. Always more.

He could never have enough of Kylo.

The fingers slid out, but before Hux could complain Kylo slid in.

Hux gasped.

He had forgotten how it felt like. Or maybe he simply never got used to it.

But then again, how could he get used to this? How could he ever not be overwhelmed by feeling so full? Full of Kylo, in him, around him. Those too large, beloved arms coming to wrap around him, pulling him back until Hux was flush against Kylo’s chest, straddling Kylo’s thighs.

Hux wrapped his arms around Kylo’s neck. He needed to be closer, even when there was no room between them.

And then Kylo started moving.

“Oh kriff,” he moaned. His hips began to rock on their own accord, meeting Kylo’s every thrust. “Oh, Kylo!”

Those impossibly large hands were wrapped around his hips, lifting him up with such ease it was dizzying. Or maybe that was all the panting. Or the relentless pounding which made his eyes roll into the back of his head and his head fall back against Kylo’s shoulder.

Hux didn’t know, didn’t care, didn’t want this to end. Ever.

“You’re so good,” Kylo mumbled in his ear, voice hoarse and low and still soft somehow and kriff, Hux loved it. “So beautiful.”

“Kylo,” Hux panted. It was the only word that made any sort of sense anymore. “Kylo!”

And then two more words, which came out in a pitiful whimper, spilled from his lips before he could catch them.

“You’re here.”

But Kylo didn’t notice, too lost in his own mumbling, and Hux was so grateful. He couldn’t handle it, couldn’t handle Kylo knowing…

“Kylo,” he whimpered again.

He _needed_. So much, and it was so hard to express it in any other way than through his lover’s name.

 “Yes, yes you. Always you I love you,” Kylo said into his ear. The words were pouring out in a half-coherent babble, making Hux bite his lips from the honesty of them. “So beautiful. And strong. And brilliant. And all for me, only for me, and I love it, I love you and _oh Hux!_ ”

Kylo buried his face in the crook of Hux’s neck, still mumbling words Hux could no longer make out. It didn’t matter though. His panting was so loud in his ear, matching the pounding of his blood, yet still Kylo’s voice pierced through it all.

Hux was so, so close.

Kylo’s hand came to wrap around Hux’s cock, and everything went white.

Hux’s orgasm washed over him in a sea of ecstasy. Distantly, he felt his hands scrambling to keep their grip on Kylo’s neck, his back arch into an impossible bend. He may have screamed at some point, but if he had it was overshadowed by Kylo’s own roar as he spilled inside of Hux.

Kylo fell on his back, dragging Hux with him. The two landed gracelessly on the floor, and Hux was left staring at the ceiling, his own come cooling on top of him as his mind was still half-blanked from pleasure.

When he finally regained enough faculties to speak, he blurted out the first asinine thing that came to mind. “We have to wash again now.”

“That’s fine,” Kylo voiced from beside him. He sounded as dazed as Hux did.

“Later,” Hux mumbled as he let his head rest against Kylo’s chest. “The water is actually cold now.”

Kylo didn’t deign to answer him. Instead, he began stroking Hux’s hair, and Hux felt his eyelids flutter at the touch, and he basked in the feel of it all.

There was a warm glow spreading throughout; a familiar animal after sex with Kylo, but one that was all the more welcome now. It felt both cleansing and reinvigorating. Though his muscles were limp with exhaustion, he felt as if he could take on the world.

He breathed in, and was surprised at how easy it was.

Everything was much lighter now, as if the two weeks of brooding and worrying had never been. Usually, he felt each anxiety and insecurity cling to him long after they first came upon him, accumulating more and more until it stiffened his neck and compressed his lungs. Until he could barely breathe and barely noticed.

Kylo helped, in that regard. He helped a lot, in small ways and big ones. Coax the anxiety out of him.

Or fuck it out, apparently.

Hux laughed at his own thought, though it wasn’t even that funny. He looked up at Kylo again, whose eyes were half-lidded and lips pulled into a lazy grin.

He looked like a cat.

Hux breathed out a chuckle even as his heart clenched at the thought.

“What is it?” Kylo whispered, fingers coming up to scratch the nap of his neck.

Hux shook his head, unwilling to answer directly.

“We’ll win,” he whispered back, letting his head rest against Kylo’s chest once more.

Kylo’s hum in approval vibrated against his cheek. “Of course we’ll win. And then everything will be perfect.”

It was a far more optimistic pronouncement than Hux would ever say. Yet as he closed his eyes and listened to the steady beat of Kylo’s heart, he almost found himself believing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come hang out with me on [tumblr!](http://courgette96.tumblr.com)


	5. Kylo II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... that was longer than a month. Again, so very sorry for the delay! Exams came up, and it turns out you need to study for them????   
> This chapter is posted before ch6 is done, meaning that I might choose to rebuild my buffer before posting the next one. Since vacation is coming up, this may not take *too* long, but I've learned not to make any promises. :(
> 
> Mind the new tags, this chapter contains: Violence, Reference to Child Abuse, Mental Torture- briefly. If there are any other tags I missed, let me know!
> 
> Betaed by the lovely Wren_ofthewildwood, who probably went blind from all the mistakes I subjected her too.

Kylo looked over his appearance in the mirror, scrutinizing his reflection for any flaw in his combat gear. It was more difficult to do so on his own than with an aide-de-camp to do it for him, but Kylo hated being manhandled. 

Besides, he had done well enough on his own.

The reinforced leather and hidden steel plates hugged his chest and limbs tightly, as protective as they could be without hindering his movements. The tight fit was meant to prevent enemies from grabbing onto his clothes, and had the side effect of a constant pressure all around his limbs and sides.

Kylo didn’t wish to call the feeling reassuring, but he was very fond of it. It made him feel more grounded, calm even.

Well, as calm as he could be after the report from Belderone’s magistrate. It hadn’t taken long for the man to come crawling back and sheepishly admit what they already knew: there had indeed been some suspicious population movement in the past few months.

More specifically, an entire region in the west side had found its population suddenly shrinking. Entire villages becoming ghost towns within weeks of each other. No one had said a thing, because Belderone’s west was a mountainous and dry region, and they thought it was nothing to worry about.

Idiots.

Kylo’s fist had twitched all throughout the delivery of this news, his expression growing more and more murderous with each second. The Magistrate had eyed him nervously, even through the safe distance of the holocall. Yet the worst of his fear had been directed towards Hux.

How right of him.

If Kylo had been angry after the report, then Hux had been absolutely furious.

To say Hux took his position as ruler of the Outer Rim seriously would be an understatement. Though he could not be everywhere, he expected those who governed in his name to report anything of significance. More importantly, he required that they be competent.

It was the Magistrate’s good luck that he was so loyal. Right now, it was all that kept him alive.

Besides, Kylo mused as he walked out towards the courtyard, he had better things to do than go out and kill that sweaty bantha.

Today, they would strike against Favis. The plans had been made, the troupes had been readied.

The Republic had given no sign of life, but that was to be expected. It didn’t matter, they would make amends in other ways.

It was a matter for later. For now, his more immediate concern was finding Phasma. She always made a point of speaking to him before battle, largely because of his tendency to… improvise during battle.

There was a time when he used to try to avoid her, but she always managed to corner him. Now, he just went straight to her.

It was easier.

It wasn’t difficult to spot her. Her battle gear was more chrome than fabric. The black top and pants were covered in metal plates that both protected her organs and covered her knees, elbows and fists. It made her brutal in hand to hand, and the large blaster she always carried made her just as dangerous in long distance combat.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw that she wasn’t alone.

“What are they doing here?” he asked icily. He purposefully kept his eyes on Phasma so as to not even glance at Dameron and his pet mechanic.

To see the two of them reawakened the sting of betrayal Kylo felt when he first learned of Dameron’s ruse, a feeling he cursed himself for.

Betrayal implied that the two of them were on the same side; that hadn’t been the case in twenty years. Kylo had been foolish to believe that Dameron’s proclamations of friendship – which he hadn’t wanted at all – were anything more than lip service to false sentiment.

Poe Dameron had cared more about one low-life he had just met than the friend he claimed to have missed.

Finn lifted his chin and met Kylo’s gaze, making him realize with a jolt that he had been glaring.

Kylo quickly looked back towards Phasma, who shrugged. “The new guy’s a good shot. Also, he volunteered”

Kylo quirked an eyebrow at that. Whatever happened to his Republican pacifism? “We have a lot of good shots.”

Phasma was unfazed. “We can always use more. And he’s better than most.”

Kylo sneered. “He’ll shoot you in the back.”

In the back of his mind, he was aware that it wasn’t true. He also knew that it was foolish to argue about this when he would most likely never even see each other once on the battlefield.

However, none of that seemed as important as reasserting himself and his wants.

“Not if he wants to live he won’t,” Phasma argued. “Worst comes to worst, he runs away. Then he isn’t our problem anymore.”

Kylo pursed his lips. “You could have just killed him.”

Dameron stepped forward then, angling his body in front of Finn as if to protect him from oncoming blows. “I told her not too.”

Kylo shot him a glare to rival Hux’s. “I wasn’t aware your opinion had any sort of power here.”

“For the record, I didn’t spare the mech because Dameron asked, Ren,” Phasma spoke again. “I simply didn’t want to kill him without _Hux’s permission_.”

The reminder was heavy handed, but true. Kylo couldn’t go around Hux’s camp doing as he pleased without seriously undermining his lover. He could get away with much, but not this.

Kyo grit his teeth, and changed tactics, “Why is the pilot here, then?”

“You know,” Dameron quipped with poorly hidden irritation, “you can ask “the pilot” directly.”

Kylo ignored him. “Hux doesn’t want him harmed,” he pointed out to Phasma.

“Which is very nice of him,” Dameron quipped, content with amusing himself if no one else.

“He shouldn’t be on the front lines,” Kylo continued. “You know that.”

Phasma rolled her eyes. “He volunteered too.”

Kylo stilled. “What?”

His voice was sharp, and held more displeasure than disbelief.

Besides, he now knew why Finn had volunteered to fight. Loyalty to a rescuer ran deep, after all.

“I promised your mom I’d look out for you,” Dameron proclaimed, because of course it had to do with Organa. He was her man through and through. “I’ve got your back.”

“I’m touched,” Kylo sneered.

“He’s a better pilot than most of ours. And Hux agreed.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“So did I, and I obtained personal confirmation.”

And that was that, wasn’t it? For all of the authority Kylo has acquired over the years, he could still say nothing that went against Hux’s words.

“Fine,” he said curtly, swallowing the defeat like bitter poison. “Then I expect you to handle him.”

Phasma shot him an annoyed look. “Of course, Lord Ren.”

He grit his teeth, nodded, then turned on his heels and left, trying very hard not to feel as if he were storming off.

Or worse, running away.

Even as he walked though, he knew the conversation wasn’t over. He hadn’t received the usual lecture.

Whatever, he’d get it later. Right now, he just needed to get away.

But apparently, he couldn’t even have that.

“Hey, Kylo -”

Kylo turned around sharply, hand flying to his lightsaber as he did so. He kept his finger of the ignition button; he knew the pilot wouldn’t think to check anyway. “I thought I had made myself clear, Dameron.”

Dameron swallowed visibly. His eyes darted down towards the weapon in his hand, filling with satisfying fear for a brief moment. But then his usual cockiness reasserted itself, and he met Kylo’s eyes as he kept on talking. “About Finn-”

“Unless you’ve come to grovel in apology,” Kylo interrupted with a growl, “I don’t care what you have to say.”

Dameron was undeterred. “I just wanted you to know it was all my idea. I talked him into it. So don’t take it out on him.”

Dameron radiated concern and reproach, a self-righteous cocktail that made Kylo’s teeth itch. All things considered, he had been more than kind with the stowaway. Other would have killed him immediately upon discovery.

Kylo hadn’t. For all that the man’s loud worship of the Republic and quiet disdain for Hux and himself, he hadn’t. Dameron had openly insulted their authority, laughed as he made a fool out of both of them, yet Kylo stayed his hand.

They should be grateful.

“No one forced him to accept,” he said flatly, eyes narrowing as Dameron squared his shoulders.

“I was very insistent,” the pilot retorted, all deadpan and irony and barely concealed irritation.

Kylo didn’t know which of the three finally made him snap.

“You had no right to make that offer and you know it!” he growled, stepping forward to loom over the pilot.

It wasn’t the first time he used his height to intimidate, yet though he could tell Dameron was made uncomfortable by the invasion of his personal space, he didn’t feel any fear coming off of the pilot. Just more righteousness and angry frustration, the latter of which came out quite clearly in Dameron’s voice.  “It was the right thing to do, and you know it too! You would have wanted someone to do the same to you, in his stead!”

“He shouldn’t have agreed!”

“Of course he would take a way out! He was stuck in a bad situation, and desperate!”

“I don’t care.”

“I saw that!” Dameron said bitterly. “You don’t care about anything anymore, apart from that ginger prick.”

Kylo had to concede that Dameron’s assessment wasn’t entirely inaccurate. “He wasn’t my problem.”

“You know, there was a time when you would have stepped in to help him.” Dameron’s gaze hardened. “When did you lose that?”

Kylo’s breath hitched for a short moment, not long enough for the pilot to notice.

Dameron’s question stirred memories in the back of Kylo’s mind, not fully formed, but growing dangerously. Harsh lessons learned in harsher times still.

And as usual, anger kept them at bay, crushing them under white noise and wordless fury. So much easier to rage than to remember.

“That pet of yours is inconsequential,” he spat out with all the bile he was capable off. “A nothing of a man, barely worth the air he breathes.” The words were filled with more hate than he truly felt, but in that moment all he cared about was summoning anger. His, Dameron’s. The stowaways, maybe, if word got to him. “Why waste emotion on someone like that?”

Dameron’s cheeks reddened even further, open anger finally marring his features. It bought little satisfaction though, not when the past kept rearing its ugly head, pulled along by Dameron’s obstination. “The Ben I knew wouldn’t have said all of those things. Where did you learn that? Who taught you that?”

“What does it matter? If you cared about him so much, then you were free to come back later! He wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Oh please! Like you would have allowed Republic ships anywhere near that planet after what happened with Telana! I wouldn’t have been able to go back for at least a decade.”

“He had been on that planet for years already,” Kylo scoffed, lips pulling in a disdainful sneer. “What were a few more?”

“Oh, really?” Dameron spat out. “Did _you_ tell yourself that all those years ago?!”

Kylo froze. It happened sometimes, when emotions were too strong for rage, for outburst, for tears. When boiling anger and mute shock warred so greatly that nothing came out of it but paralysis.

And echoes of grief, long past, never forgotten.

What did Ben Solo tell himself?

To keep his head down, to bide his time. They couldn’t sell him, couldn’t break him fully; the son of Organa, too recognizable, too dangerous. And then too strong, even without the Force; they let him keep up his training regimen, let him build muscle thinking it would attract customers. Idiots, all of them, and all he would need is an opening. So do as they say, sometimes, most times. Stay angry, but say nothing.

What did Ben Solo tell himself?

The same lies, over and over again. That there was hope, that it would end soon. Nothing to do but wait, because there was no job to be done, no money to be saved. No shuttle to carry him away, if only he would pay enough. No way out but through the door he couldn’t reach, out of chains he could not break.

That _he_ would come, that _she_ would come. And she did, only her hair had been red instead of brown, and there was calculation in her eyes instead of love. A mother came, but not his. Yet it was enough for now, he told himself, enough to get out of the stall, and fight his way out afterwards if he had to.

What did Ben Solo tell himself?

Nothing worthwhile.

And the realization that the dreams he whispered to himself would never come to pass had been a far more crushing blow than anything his captors had ever inflicted upon him.

“You’re so full of opinions, Dameron,” he heard himself say. He wouldn’t have called his voice toneless, yet even he couldn’t describe the emotion behind it. “Maybe one day you’ll learn not to voice them.”

If Kylo were inclined to give the pilot any credit, he would have remarked that Dameron had looked ashamed as soon as the words left his mouth. “Sorry, that… that wasn’t fair at all,” he said quietly, deflating with each word until he seemed as small as Kylo had ever seen him. “

Kylo waited for satisfaction to come. When it didn’t, he waited for more anger.

In truth, he just felt drained. He had fought this battle for over two weeks now, rehashing the same arguments and resentment over and over again. Dameron had backed down first, and perhaps it was a victory. Yet still they were talking, and Kylo…

Kylo just wanted it to end. All of it. Wanted to go back to the blissful, uncomplicated days where neither the Republic nor Favis had come to mar his life.

“What do you want, Dameron?” he asked, unable to hide the wariness seeping into his tone.

Whatever. He didn’t care anymore. Pushing the man away didn’t seem to stop him, maybe humoring him would.

It was ironic, then, that that was the moment Dameron hesitated. So quick witted, so eager to talk, yet he pinched his lips several times over, considering his words and finding all of them lacking.

“Look, I know you’re angry at me,” he said finally, eyes darting towards the ground before he forced them back up. “Not just about… what I said, but in general. And I get it.”

That was a lie. Kylo could have said as much even without the Force. Dameron’s emotions were pouring out of him in waves, much stronger than usual; they told Kylo what he already knew.

Dameron didn’t understand a damn thing. He simply accepted it.

And pitied Kylo for it.

“But before I go, I want to-”

“Oh, you _want!_ How very novel!” Kylo looked up to the sky and laughed, both tiredly and mockingly.

He looked back down, and saw Dameron’s pinched lips and worried frown. He let out another laugh, a short bark full of bitterness. “And if you want it, why shouldn’t it be given to you, isn’t that right? Twenty years of complacency, twenty years of nothing, but now you want everything again. Not even caring, not even realizing that your inaction has burned it to the ground!”

His voice had risen without him realizing it; it startled him when he spoke those last words. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

It wasn’t often that he chose to steady himself that way, but he intended these words to be final. “Well, listen here, Dameron: I don’t care what you were ordered to do. I don’t care about what you feel, or don’t feel, or anything about you _._ ” He looked at Dameron straight in the eye as he spoke. “I don’t want you near me.”

“Why not?” the pilot challenged. His tone was gentle, unlike the rest of his demeanor. “You just cursed us for inaction, and now that we’re here, you’re unhappy too? You might want to figure out what you want.”

“I already told you, I want you gone. You might want to learn how to listen,” Kylo retorted.

“I could say the same. You act like you’re the one who is ignored, but you’ve spent the last month shutting down any attempts we made at communication.”

“I know what you’re going to say. I have no desire to hear it.”

“Well maybe you should to.” Some heat had returned to Dameron’s tone, though it was obvious he was doing his best to reign it in. “Because some things you definitely need to hear.”

Kylo scoffed. “Your loyalty to Organa is admirable”

“This isn’t about your mother, Ben! This is about _me._ ”

“Isn’t everything?”

“Stop it, okay! Stop it!” Dameron’s frustration flared through the Force. It wasn’t surprising.

What made Kylo recoil was the pain and sadness that came with it. So new – or rather not new, just  no longer hidden.

Had it been from Organa, he wouldn’t have flinched; that woman carried sadness and grief with her always, a low hum he could feel even when he had been just a boy. But Dameron…

Kylo had only ever known him as a reckless child, a confident flyboy, a persistent irritant. Not _this._

 “Please, just… stop.” Dameron repeated much more quietly this time. He took a deep breath, and another. His mouth opened, closed, opened again, and none of his usual confident quips came out. In their stead were painfully spoken words, hesitant and raw. “I know you had it worse than anyone. And I can’t even begin to imagine what you went through. But you don’t get to act like no one cared! You don’t get to act like I wouldn’t have ripped the Galaxy apart to find you had we been able to!” His voice was growing more and more frantic. “And you don’t get to just hate me and expect me to be fine with it! Not when I…”

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. He swallowed, blinking rapidly against tears as too many expressions flashed through his eyes. “You know, it took me a week to learn you had gone missing? No one would tell me anything! I kept asking where you were, why you weren’t with your dad, and they would just whisper among themselves and tell me they would explain later.”

He let out a laugh, then. It was devoid of any humor.

Kylo, it seemed, did not have the monopoly on bitterness.

“Maybe they were right to,” Dameron continued, shoulders sagging further down with each word. “When I figured it out, I almost crashed a ship trying to fly it out to go looking for you. And when it failed, I hated that I couldn’t do more.”

Dameron had been such a brash child, Kylo remembered involuntarily. A kind, charming child, but reckless all the same. He would have been exactly the type of child who would steal a spaceship.

He wouldn’t have been the type of man in front of him, who radiated such honest misery and miserable honesty. Dameron’s grief was old, dulled by time and habit. Yet it felt so sharp to Kylo, nearly painful as it cut through his anger - his constant companion for the past three weeks, and much longer still.

With an apology and genuine tears, Dameron managed to pierce through years of bitterness.

Though to be fair – and this Kylo only now began to realize – none of it had ever been directed against him.

Dameron had wanted to save him. It was so stupid. Kylo had never thought of it, way back then, because future pilots don’t go off saving future Jedis. It should have been the other way around, except Ben was too helpless to save himself.

“Your efforts would have been pointless,” he reminded both of them.

Dameron’s wince brought little satisfaction. “Didn’t stop me from wishing otherwise.”

“Wishing never helped anything,” Kylo all but whispered.

Dameron looked close to tears.

“I know. And I’m sorry Kylo. I am so, so sorry.”

He closed his eyes, let out a slow breath. Kylo recognized a breathing technique, the kind pilots used to steal themselves before a dangerous maneuver.

Did Dameron think him menacing?

Kylo felt anything but in that moment.

“Look,” Dameron said finally, his words coming out slowly as he weighed each and every one of them. “There is a chance I might die out there – there always is when you’re going off to a battle. And maybe you’ll be happy about it, but I’m not going out there with regrets. I don’t care if that sounds cheesy. So I’m not going to let you brush me off again: I am so, so happy to see you alive. I’m happy to see you, period.”

It was a lie. It had to be a lie, because Kylo saw Dameron’s pity, Organa’s barely restrained tears. He saw their utter misery when they looked upon him, the bitterness they barely tried to hide. Complete rejection of who he was now.

And yet, despite knowing all that, he couldn’t block out the words entirely. Couldn’t formulate of a scathing response, not when his mind had gone blank from too many thought at once.

So he said nothing, and tried to look stoic despite everything.

Dameron kept on looking at him hopefully, obviously wishing for some real reaction to his words. None came.

The silence was oppressing. To break it would be worse.

In the end, it was Dameron who gave in first – another feat to add in a list of increasingly hollow victories.

“Well, there you have it,” he said awkwardly. The disappointment in his voice was unmissable. “I’ll leave you alone after this, I promise.” He tried to smile, and maybe for the first time in his life, failed. “See you around… or not, I guess.”

With that, he walked away, finally going to join his assigned ship. Kylo watched him leave until he left his line of vision. He didn’t move for a long time. Not until he heard the sound of boots walking aboard a carrier, and forced his feet to move.

Soldiers gave him a wide berth as he made his way through the ship, and even when he sat down in the main bay they left a few seats between him and them. They most likely expected him to be in a foul or dangerous mood, be it because of the conversation or upcoming battle.

He would have liked it to be true.

But the truth was that he still didn’t know what he felt. The more he tried to parse it out, the more he was reminded of just why he so rarely forced himself through introspection.

Then again, did it really count as introspection when Dameron’s words, Dameron’s _feelings_ were still screaming within his mind?

Years ago, he would have done anything to hear such things. The true certitude that someone was out there, looking for him. Years ago, he would have responded with sorrow and hope, would have used the tale as a shield against doubt and the vicious poison dripping from the slaver’s mouths and from his own mind.

But what good would it have done him then? What good did it do him now?

P… Dameron had wanted to act, but hadn’t been able to. And those who could have acted didn’t, or not enough. Now they wanted to interfere with the life he had built, step into a world they had long abandoned. No amount of earnest feelings would change anything – they meant nothing, not coming from one man. Not years after the fact. Too little, too late, and fully unwelcome besides.

The ghost of childish sentimentality weighed very little in the face of that.

Those were the facts, objective and true. And yet, he couldn’t help the flicker of _something_ within him, that squeezed his heart and stuck in his throat, that made his eyes sting. What was Kylo supposed to do with that?

Nothing had changed, he didn’t want anything to change. He didn’t want it, he just…

He let his head fall back with a thud. The back of his skull ached from the harsh impact, but he barely paid attention.

He shouldn’t let himself be distracted like this. There was a fight coming up, and a whole lifetime after it. He shouldn’t waste time with regrets and wishful thinking, he shouldn’t…. shouldn’t…

Damn it. _Damn it!_

He hunched forward then, elbows on his thighs and head in his hands.

He couldn’t let himself be distracted like this. He had to focus on Favis, on what mattered and -

He startled when he heard someone come closer. He looked at the door with a glare, ready to roar at whoever dared to intrude to leave him alone.

His yell died in his throat when he saw Phasma standing before him. The First Captain didn’t look intimidated in the least as she slumped in the seat next to him.

“So… I saw you and Dameron have a heart to heart.”

“Shut up.”

“It was very touching. From afar, at least.”

“Phasma, I’m not in the mood...”

“You know… Last time you got this broody, you ended up curled up in the floor crying in Hux’s arms.”

Kylo looked down. “Last time was different.”

The last time involved a traitorous voice from the Dark, and a bone deep terror at a choice almost made. Kylo had collapsed in Hux’s arm, his hysterical crying so loud it must have been what alerted the guards. But he hadn’t cared about the humiliation. Neither had Hux, who despite his efforts to appear strong couldn’t hide how much he trembled.

He didn’t say any of that though.

“He’ll leave soon enough,” he said instead. He felt the urge to hunch, so he stretched out his legs to fight it.

He looked straight at the wall to not look. Her gaze was for too knowing for his taste. “And you’ll be happy about that?”

He surprised himself by carefully considering his answer.

“Yes.” Earlier that morning, the answer would have been loaded with viscous satisfaction and relief. Now though, it was simply fact, along with a wisp of what might have been regret. “You’re awfully inquisitive today.”

Phasma shrugged. “It’s been rough for you.”

“Hasn’t it been for everyone?” Kylo retorted. “Are you going around camp spreading care and consideration to everyone you meet?”

“Not everyone,” she granted. “But not everyone shares a room with our almighty leader, and Hux has been an ass lately.”

That drew a snort out of Kylo. “Careful, Gwen. I could report you, get you demoted.”

“Try it, Kylo. We’ll finally see who’s the favorite.”

“We both know it’s me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re willing to have sex with him. That’s an unfair advantage.” She stood up, and stretched her arms over her head. “And on that unpleasant thought, I’m going to go join the troops. We’re landing soon.” She dug through her pocket and handed him a small earpiece. “Here’s your com. It’s just as shitty as last time, so try not to break it.”

Kylo put the earpiece on his ear, wincing at the uncomfortable pinch that came with it. It really was a shitty com, with shitty material and shitty sound. Yet it was all Hux would allow them to have. Better poor material they could upkeep than newer ones they wouldn’t be able to fix once broken.

“You know,” Phasma said once he was done, “I know it’s been a long time since we’ve been in a true battle like this, but…”

“Don’t worry. I haven’t grown rusty.”

“Great to know. Also not what I wanted to tell you.” She looked at him straight in the eye, shedding the previous banter for a much more serious tone. “I can’t watch your back, Ren. I have too many men to look over. So if you go off plan-”

“To be fair…”

“ _If_ that happens, you’re on your own.” The look she gave him was full of warning, and maybe even a hint of concern. “Anything that comes your way, you better be able stop it.”

Kylo opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it. Instead he nodded solemnly. It was a more honest response.

Her lecture had been surprisingly gentle this time around. It seemed crass to offer token words in reply.

Phasma didn’t look entirely convinced, but she didn’t press the matter any further. She patted his shoulder in goodbye before leaving the room.

The slide of the mechanic doors seemed to resonate in the room long after her absence.

Kylo closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

When he opened them, he felt ready again.

The short conversation with Phasma had successfully pulled his thoughts away from Dameron and back to the battle at hand. He wondered how much of that was on purpose on her part.

Probably all of it. One of her greatest strengths as a leader was reading the mood of her troops, and acting accordingly.

Though he couldn’t quite bring himself to smile, he did feel the corner of his lips twitch as he let his head fall back and waited for the flight to be over.

 

*

 

The rest of the journey was uneventful. Kylo wanted to be left alone, and everyone aboard the ship was completely fine with that.

When they landed, he came out slowly, making his way down the corridor under the eyes of everyone. The lights behind him gave him a long shadow, one he made sure stretched all the way to the opening doors.

Phasma rolled her eyes. He ignored her.

The troops slowly made their way out of the ships, adopting the formation as instructed by Phasma. Kylo never ceased to be impressed by the discipline of these men, despite the lack of a proper academy to train them. It was a testament to the skill of Hux’s officers, most of all Phasma.

Once the soldiers were out, Phasma made a gesture with her hand. The small army began moving then, slowly and carefully as they made their way through the rocky landscape.

Had the situation been ideal, they would have simply stormed the place with their ships, blasted the whole place to dust and flown away victorious. Alas, space ships were too valuable a commodity to risk. Moreover, Favis had proven to have superior technology, making it too dangerous to face him head-on.

And so, Hux’s plan relied heavily on stealth, for the first part at least. Taking advantage of the landscape that had hidden his army so well, the small group headed by Phasma would sneak in the base to take out the first line of defense. The use of the Force would prove helpful in eliminating the guards, though Kylo deplored the fact that he had never managed to master any sort of mind tricks. Once that was done, the main force would sweep in. The majority of Hux’s fleet was stationed in the upper stratosphere, and would only descend once Phasma gave the go ahead.

A simple plan, to be sure, but Kylo had been in enough campaigns to know that the simple plans were the most effective, as well as the least likely to go wrong.

And yet, as if the galaxy to purposefully disprove his thoughts, he heard the sound of engines firing up.

“What the…?”

Phasma and he lifted their heads almost in sync, just in time to see a spaceship take off. A big one at that, like the one Hux himself used to carry his troupes. As soon as it was far away enough that the sound of its engines wasn’t so overwhelming, Kylo heard the sound of boots hitting the ground and metal doors slamming shut.

He ran towards the source of the sound as quickly as stealth still allowed. He stopped when the thick bushes suddenly gave way a steep downhill slope covered in rocks and stone. He ducked behind a natural pillar, Phasma quickly joining him. They both peaked at the camp below, and cursed at way he saw.

Favis’ base was nestled in the gap between several steep hills and cliffs. It was ideal for hiding from aerial scouts, but made spying much easier from the natural high grounds. And thus, they had a full view of Favis’ troops marching into their state of the art ships. Most weapons and machinery were being quickly stored away in cargos.

They were evacuating. Someone had tipped them off.

“Fuck.”

Phasma’s hand shot to her com. She spat out orders so quickly Kylo had a hard time keeping track.  “All troops, charge now! Alpha ship, take the west flank! Gamma, you have right! Target the evacuating soldiers, their formation will hinder them. The rest of you, with me!”

Without waiting for a response, she began running towards the camp, jumping over rocks and dodging under arcades with such speed Kylo almost had a hard time keeping up. The rest of the men followed as told, and soon enough, they were assaulting the base.

It was a far cry from the initially plan, but stealth was pointless if the enemy was gone by the time the true attack launched.

Besides, it was effective: the sudden onslaught of two spacecrafts from both sides of the camp caused enough confusion that most didn’t think to target Phasma’s squad. Those that did found themselves hindered by the landscape that had once shielded them from sight.

It was good thinking on Phasma’s parts. Hux would appreciate the reactivity.

Kylo, for his part, relished in the melee. More specifically, in the opportunity to use his lightsaber.

The red beam, even as unstable and flickering as it was, filled him with pride whenever he lit it. It was his weapon, his creation. His.

He had found the kyber crystal on his own, among a stall of cracked quartz and dirty stones. He had designed the blade himself from nothing more than his memories of Skywalker’s weapon and very basic engineering knowledge. It had taken him months to get a functioning blade, then several more to stabilize it enough for battle. He had scarred his face in the process, the result of an energy overload when he had tried to deflect a blaster bolt with the beam.

But it had all been worth it, because now…

He cut down a charging soldier with twirl of the blade, and relished the look of scared shock that crossed the face of the two men that had charged with him.

Now he was the most fearsome creature these men might meet. Ex-imperials, mercenaries, throwbacks from backwater planets, it didn’t matter; the image of a red lightsaber inspired the same reaction everywhere.

Kylo was no Sith. Kylo had no desire to be one.

Some days though, he wondered is the reason Anakin Skywalker spent so long as Darth Vader was because he too relished the fear he inspired.

So much better to be the cause than the victim.

A soldier recoiled when Kylo turned towards him, tripped on his own feet and fell on the ground.

Kylo smiled, and ran his lightsaber through him.

Then ducked as he felt a blaster bolt just inches away from his back.

Shit.

He turned around clumsily, overstepping the frightened soldier’s body as he did so. Instinct made him raise his lightsaber just in time to deflect another bolt aimed towards his chest. He steadied himself and snarled.

There were four soldiers in front of him, two men and two women. They kept their distances as they fired shot after shot from four different angles, unrelenting as they tried to wear him down. It was a surprisingly coordinated effort, especially considering there were no officers in sight.

It was effective too. Their aim was off, yet Kylo was still forced to recoil in order not to get hit.

The sight of him stepping back made them bolder. Their shots came faster and faster, forcing Kylo to deflect them with both his lightsaber and the Force.

And still they wouldn’t come closer.

“Phasma,” Kylo hissed in the com.

He didn’t say anything more, didn’t need to. Instead, he deflected another bolt then raised his left hand sharply. The Force answered his call, coiling around his hand in a growing mass of energy. His fingers trembled as it quickly became too big, too wild, and finally burst from his control

It was a brutal, brutish use of his abilities.

It was all he needed.

His four opponents were thrown back by the blast, landing with a loud thud and even a crack for one of them.

They tried to get up, and were shot in the head for their trouble.

Kylo turned towards Phasma, who stood ten meters away with her blaster still raised, and nodded in thanks. The Captain didn’t acknowledge him as she began firing again.

Kylo took a moment from catch his breath before jumping back in the fray.

It was hard to keep track of the progression of the battle from his position, but he had a distinct impression that they were winning. Their troops were beginning to close in on Favis’ men. The opposing force’s numbers meant little when being cornered as they were.

However, the attack didn’t stop the evacuation.

A large ship had managed to load itself with soldiers, and was now clearly trying to take off.

“Omega ships, aim fire on that freighter! Do not let it off the ground!”

That was Hux’s voice in his ear, low and crackled from static and oh so welcome.

The ships fired as one, swirling overhead to avoid retaliating fire. Their aim was true, but the ship held on, it’s haul made of the Republic’s finest material. It continued with the evacuation, trying to get as many soldiers off planet before the base went down.

Kylo looked away from the scene – it wasn’t his to handle, and he had more immediate targets to deal with.

His lightsaber gave him a wide berth. Few soldiers came close to him now, be it from strategy or simple fear. Whatever the case, it meant he had to run more, jump more, exert himself more to be able to reach them or simply heard them towards Phasma and her men.

It was infuriating; all this strength, and nothing to do with it.

He took out his growing frustration however he could, with hacks and bursts of the Force, but he had to be careful not to injure his own side. Panting and stabbing, restraining himself even when he wanted to lay waste to everything around him and –

He fell to the ground, hard, ears ringing from the explosion that had sounded just behind him. He felt the lightsaber being wrenched from his hand, but couldn’t summon it back when all his effort was on keeping debris from hitting him. His vision was blurred from the dust caught in his eye, making it that much harder to catch his bearing.

He tried getting up, but his instincts flared to life again. His hand shot up out of its own volition.

It caught an arm, strained to stop it in its track. There was a vibroblade inches away from his face.

He looked up at the face above, the man who had tried to strike him while he was down. He was met with rage and fear, the look of a cornered beast who knew his gambit had failed.

Kylo snarled.

The soldier above him tried to strike with his free hand, aiming for Kylo’s throat. It was a weak blow, one that Kylo caught easily. With both arms in his grip, he flipped them over, hitting the other man in the stomach with his knee.

His opponent let out a choked sound, and jerked. It wasn’t enough to free him completely, but it did yank the hand with the blade out of Kylo’s grasp. The soldier swung it blindly.

Pain blossomed in Kylo’s flank as the vibroblade cut through it. Kylo didn’t feel the pain though, not through the rage and adrenaline that coursed through him.

His hand shot up to grab the man’s wrist, closed around it, and _squeezed._

He was rewarded with the sound of bones crunching.

The man screamed. Then gurgled as Kylo’s vibroblade opened his throat.

And that was the end of him.

Kylo heaved himself up, then hissed as the movement pulled on the wound on his side. He looked down to inspect it: his armor had done much to slow down the blade, but the cut was still deep enough to bleed. And it hurt, stupid enough as that observation was.

With another hiss, he looked around for his lightsaber, relieved to see it lying not far away. In the chaos, no one had spotted it, and thus no one had picked it up.

Kylo walked to pick it up, not wanting to risk clumsily summoning it with the Force. He looked up towards the source of the explosion.

And cursed.

Hux’s ships had abandoned their initial target in order to fight off new targets. Another fleet had arrived, made of small, damaged ships that were barely distinguishable from Hux’s own, save for the target they set their fire on.

Mercenaries?

It seemed likely. If they already knew of the attack, then they would have had time to make the payment.

This wasn’t good.

He looked around, and saw Hux’s men visibly unnerved by the turn of event. Phasma was still in the frontlines, still bellowing orders and struggling for control, but the forward momentum was lost.

“Phasma, the left battalion is scattering!” Hux’s voice rang in his ear again. “Take it back in hand!”

“Yes sir!”

Kylo cursed under his breath.

This couldn’t last. Though Hux’s ships were holding their own for now, the tide of battle would turn if they lingered.

They needed to act quickly, needed to-

He startled when his entire mind flared up, senses going wild as they picked up on _something_.

No, not just something. A presence, one that Kylo instinctively recognized as a target.

Favis. It had to be Favis.

He looked around wildly, trying to pinpoint the exact location. His eyes zeroed in on a narrow opening between the cliffs.

There. That’s where he had to go.

He began to run, turning his back on the battlefield.

Phasma, of course, saw him. She was too far away to do anything, but that’s what the com was for.

“Ren, no!” she screamed into his ear, so loudly her voice cut into statics. “Stick to the plan”

He hissed. “He’s there! If we kill him now, we end this!”

He didn’t even bother asking how she knew. She had her ways.

“You think Favis lingered behind? He probably went on the first ship out!”

“You don’t know that! I could kill him today!”

“Kylo,” Hux yelled, “do as she says!”

Phasma spoke over him. “Listen here, you kriffing-”

He turned off the input on his comlink, cutting Phasma off mid rant and blocking any further outcry from Hux.

He didn’t have time for this. He had to follow the lead.

Hux would understand, Kylo reasoned through his guilt. It was all for his sake.

Without wasting another moment, he ran deeper into the camp, chasing the presence nipping at the edge of his mind. It wasn’t a practice he had any sort of practice with, but he would be damned if he let this opportunity slide!

His senses led him under several stone archways, each one of them narrower than the last. As he ran he saw several rooms carved within the stone, a typical fixture of Belderone’s architecture. Through open doors and glassless windows, Kylo could spot tipped over chairs, old stains on the floor. A toy rabbit whose cloth had begun to rot.

It seemed not every resident had left this place willingly. Kylo was certain that it had more to do with attachment to their home than any sort of loyalty to Hux, but it was still nice to see evidence of Favis’ lack of support.

Better still would be to catch him tonight.

He kept on running, chasing the needling in his mind. He didn’t know where he was going, but it didn’t seem to matter.

It was as if he were tugged by an invisible string, one that would lead him straight to –

_There._

He stilled.

It was there, right around that corner. The presence.

Favis.

Or not? He was no longer sure.

It seemed strange, suddenly, that such a man would have any sort of weight in the Force. He hadn’t had one before, during his first defeat.

So why now?

The confidence he had been possessed with just moments before drained from him, chased away by cold dread. This wasn’t right, he shouldn’t have rushed. Phasma was right, Favis wouldn’t have –

A figure was suddenly in front of him – from around the corner, stupid, stupid, why did he wait? -making Kylo recoil – he didn’t feel anyone coming, how?

All he had time to see was a black mask and black cloak and a hand in front of him and then –

_Phasma. The ship. Dameron, before the battle, in Slig’s cantina. Hux’s hand on his back, on his waist, Hux’s lips on his. Kylo never wanted it to end, because Hux was wonderful. Hux was everything, and gave everything in return, and Kylo would do anything for him. The trade negotiations, he had killed Thanisson, because he threatened Hux, because he was a traitor, because it felt good and Kylo was good at it._

_So good at it, one battle after the other honing the skills learned under Hux’s care. He had potential, Hux said, they all said, he knew. Potential because of anger, because it was so easy to imagine the slavers in the stead of his enemies. Then he didn’t even have to, because those who would harm him would see him brought low, but no one would shackle him ever again, no one would be above him ever again and –_

_There was nothing above him but the sky, nothing around him on the rooftop. For the first time in an eternity he was unshackled, and that warlord let him wander free. So strange, so welcome. Kylo could have run, didn’t, had nowhere else to go. Home was nothing, and why not stay with the man who had looked at him with such interest, such value, who let him simply be here in blessed freedom, let him watch the sky until it turned dark –_

_Dark, Dark, it is so dark here. It smells bad too, and Ben feels so dirty. He hasn’t washed in so long, and it used to be fun when it was running away from Chewie and soap, but now it’s not because he is alone, alone alone. They are gone, all gone, even his whisper-friend is gone and oh please Papa Mama please he just wants to go home please please PLEASE!_

He was screaming, screaming so loudly, it was painful. But pain meant he had found his body again, that he could pull back. His lightsaber was still in his hand and if he could just _swing it…_

Through the blur of his tears, he couldn’t see his opponent well enough to aim, but it didn’t matter. His lightsaber would cut through anything in its path.

Only it didn’t. His arm met brutal resistance, another saber to match his own.

No, not to match. Red, yes, but more stable.

A true lightsaber, from a true Force User.

Kylo gasped, both in surprise and pain. The other in front of him had both hands on their hilt, and put all their weight against Kylo’s crackling blade.

Out of reflex, Kylo moved his other hand to hold the hilt of his own sword, but the sharp movement tugged at the wound in his side.

He screamed again as pain shot through him. His knees weakened, and all it took was a push from the Force User to send him falling on his back.

He banged his head in the fall, sending ripples of pain through his skull.

It didn’t change much; he was already aching all over. The battle, his wound, the… _thing_ that creature did in his mind, it was all too much.

He couldn’t move fast enough, react swiftly enough.

He couldn’t even make a move to stand before the figure in black came to stand above him, slowly bringing his lightsaber over until it was inches away from Kylo’s throat.

Kylo had no illusion that this restraint meant mercy. He knew all too well how predators played with prey.

He was most certainly going to die.

Oh, _Hux._

Kylo kept his eyes open.

There was the sound of a plasma beam being fired.

Above him, the creature in the mask turned sharply to stop the beam. But another came, then another, distracting enough for Kylo to be able to land a kick.

The other Force user stumbled back, and Kylo tried to scramble to a stand. He grew dizzy halfway through, and fell to his knees panting.

He heard plasma beams again, louder and louder. Engines coming closer.

The Force user, where was he?

Kylo tried looking up, but couldn’t make out anything through his blurred vision.

He felt nauseous.

Where was…?

Hands grabbed at his jacket. He tried fighting them off.

“Hurry, Finn!”

He was being dragged along, thrown onto a hard metal floor. It rumbled beneath him.

“Close the door!”

“If I stop shooting he’ll retaliate! Just go!”

The voices sounded so distant.

“Punch it!”

They were loud though too.

“Is he alright? Tell me he’s alright!”

His head hurt so much.

A face above him. Kylo recognized him.

It was the other one. Finn. He didn’t want that one. He didn’t like that one.

“Poe,” he murmured, though he didn’t know what he meant to say. “Poe, you…”

From far away, Poe let out a chuckle that sounded both happy and sad. It was strange. “I’ve got you, Ben! I’ve got you!” He was babbling – Poe doesn’t babble often, he’s too confident for that. Ben had always been so jealous. “I know I told you I’d leave you alone, but I guess I was kind of lying, and Hux called for a retreat and…”

Kylo really couldn’t focus on much anymore. Darkness crept in as Poe’s voice faded away.

“Hey, Kylo, stay with me buddy, we…”

  _But I’ve been gone for a long time,_ Kylo thought dizzily, just before everything turned to black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi to me on [tumbr!](http://courgette96.tumblr.com)


	6. Leia II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long!! Life got in the way - a lot!! - and this chapter gave me so much trouble!!
> 
> It's done though, and it marks the end of the first act. Not much Kylux in this chapter, but hopefully the length makes up for both that and the wait.
> 
> Thanks to the amazing Wren_ofthewildwood for salvaging this mess!

_“This Senate should not lose sight of its goals, nor of the promise we made to ourselves. The Outer Rim has long been neglected by the Republic, the unfortunate consequence of a young system trying to withstand multiple acts of terror and aggression by dark forces. It was unfortunate. It was perhaps inevitable. But when we founded this Republic, when we freed ourselves of the Empire’s oppression, we made a vow to defend the values long denied to us: freedom._ _Protection without supervision. Most importantly benevolence.”_

_“When we took the oath of public service, we swore to serve the people. We swore to be what the Empire was not. We swore to not turn away from the needy, the weak, the defenseless. And yet, we would turn a blind eye to the suffering of others? Others, who we have abandoned – yes, abandoned – who live in neglect through no fault of their own? We would leave them to their fate, simply because it is easier? Are these actions compatible with the oath we took? Not a month ago, we agreed it wasn’t so. My fellow delegates, I urge you to-”_

“That’s too many rhetorical questions, don’t you think?” Leia interrupted as gently as she could. Grec Alo was an intelligent man, but one with a tendency towards dramatics that only worsened the more they let him speak.

The Sullustan coughed from embarrassment, obviously recognizing the oft-expressed criticism behind her words. “It’s interactive,” he mumbled half-heartedly, before forcing a self-depreciating smile. “It’ll wake up those in the back.”

“It’ll bore them,” Kogul drawled from his chair, stroking one of his headtails. “The fewer you use, the greater their impact.”

Alo frowned at the harsh words, but dutifully corrected his speech. Leia frowned at Kogul, who met her gaze with a bored one of his own.

Not for the first time, Leia wondered just why he had volunteered to join their committee. Everyone here was committed to granting Hux military support. The reasons varied, of course: honor, duty, the Republic’s economic interests, but the fact remained that everyone was working tirelessly to present a convincing case to the Senate in two days.

Kogul, for all his valuable input, merely looked bored.

Still, he had been an asset in preparing for the upcoming debate, his career as a lawyer giving him an edge when it came to spinning the facts to fit a given rhetoric. Though Leia generally preferred more straight forward methods to convince other parties, this time she would need all the help she could get.

She watched as Alo frowned over his newly edited speech, then glanced at his pocket watch with a frown. He sighed

 “That’s enough for today, don’t you think?”

“The hearing is in two days,” protested Councilman Coof. “We’re not ready.”

“And we’ll never be if we keep on working until our brains are fried,” Alo replied, before adding in good natured humor: “We don’t all have a second one to spare.”

The Quermian delegate chuckled at the gibe, leaning forward as he laughed. Kogul had to move out of the way to avoid his long neck.

Leia was just about to object when Jor, her assistant, came up to her. Leaning down to reach her ear, he murmured: “Senator, it is almost five.”

A quick glance to her holopad confirmed it, not that Jor would lie to her about it. The Mirialan was conscientious in all things, almost to a fault if such a thing was possible. It made him her most reliable staffer, and near constant companion in all her endeavors.

Really, the only reason she hadn’t brought him along in the Outer Rim was because he was still too much of a bureaucrat to properly handle it. It was something he would have to grow out of if he ever wanted to further his career. In fairness, he seemed to realize it: despite his regularly excellent work, he seldom gave himself a tattoo for his accomplishments as was tradition for his species. As it was, he had a few on the corner of each eye, and seemed to be saving the rest of the space for future, greater things.

Still, for now he was doing excellent work in Hosnian Prime. There was no reason to rush him.

“We can call it a day, I think,” she addressed her colleagues as she rose from her chair. “Let’s pick this up tomorrow morning.”

“Nine o’clock?” Coof offered.

“That works just fine for me. If anything changes, let me know.”

With that, she gave a nod goodbye to those assembled and headed towards her office. Jor followed close behind her, tapping away on his datapad as he went. She didn’t have to ask to know he was making notes about today’s gathering, cross-referencing quotes and precedents. All sorts of tedious work he took special pride in.

Yet halfway to her office she heard him falter, then yelp altogether as if realization had just struck. Her head snapped towards him, worry filling her for a moment.

It disappeared when she saw the look on Jor’s face: not panic but embarrassment, displeasure and mildly-polite distaste.

“Ah, forgive me Senator,” he said as they made the final turn towards their destination. His face had turned sour. “I just realized I still haven’t removed _him_ from your office.”

Leia raised her eyebrows at the stressed “him”, but didn’t comment on it further. “Were the security protocols activated?”

“Of course. Cameras keeping track of him and codes on every door.” Jor’s voice was level, but the look he gave her was full of anxiety. “I wouldn’t have left him in there on his own if I had the choice. But I didn’t think it wise to leave him in the more public parts of the Senate, nor to let him roam the capital without _some sort_ of surveillance, and no one wanted that job, so…”

“It’s no trouble,” Leia reassured him, cutting him off before he could start rambling in earnest. “There is nothing confidential kept in there, and we would have been alerted had he tried anything. Though I doubt he would be so stupid as to jeopardize himself and his goals like that.”

“I’m sorry you have to deal with him again.”

“I’ve been dealing with him for a couple weeks now,” she pointed out as they arrived before her door.  “Besides, I only need five minutes to collect my belongings.”

“I’ll keep his eyes on me.”

“He’s not a wild animal, Jor.”

“No, he’s worse.”

The doors slid open before she could reply, and Jor followed her into her office with the face of a gladiator entering an arena.

The first room of her quarters was a waiting room of sorts, comfortably furnished and filled with snack and drinks, all so that her guests could be put at ease until she was ready to receive them.

And apparently, a certain Twi’lek from the Outer Rim hadn’t been the least bit shy to take advantage of every single feature.

“Ah! Senator!” Silais greeted from his sprawled position the couch. His smile was a bright white, and added to the cacophony of color that was his red skin, green shirt and the blue couch pillows. “How lovely to see you again! It’s been too long!”

“It’s been two days.”

“Far too long,” he sighed dramatically. He sat up, stretching his arms high above his head. “I have grown bored, all cooped up in this one room.”

Leia raised an eyebrow. “Which wouldn’t have been the case if you had returned on the hours we had agreed upon.”

“So I lost track of time,” Silais shrugged. “Perfectly understandable in a new city.”

“And you made sure that no one would want to chaperone you ever again.”

“So I get enthusiastic. There is no crime in that.”

Leia resisted the urge to sigh. In the weeks spent in Silais’ company, she often had that reaction when it came to his antics. They could certainly be amusing in certain circumstances – she particularly liked the thought of setting him loose on some of her more annoying colleagues – he lacked any awareness of when to make himself discreet. Or perhaps he didn’t care, which did seem more likely.

Leia wondered if it was because he was in Republic space, or if he behaved in such a manner even within Hux’s army.

“Well you’ll just have to be bored for a few more days.” She announced. “The debate officially opens in two days. It will take several days before the Chairman declares it ready to be voted upon. You need to stay right where we can see you.” She gave him a pointed look. “We can’t afford having it said that you are too volatile, or disrespectful. There will be some who will jump at any excuse not to listen to your request.”

It would be a petty argument to make, but not entirely unwarranted. Though Silais hadn’t been asked to testify or even speak to the Senate, he had been closely watched as Hux’s unofficial representative. His apparent lack of any sort of belligerent feeling had reassured some, but others were still eager to find any flaw they might criticize.

Of course, Silais didn’t take her warning seriously- at least not outwardly. Instead, he grabbed his heart in mock shock. “The Senate assembles! I never thought I’d see the day. Will there be a ceremony to commemorate?”

“These things take time.”

“I’ll say,” he mumbled. Yet in a rare act of grace, he smiled pleasantly and amended his statement. “But ah! I shouldn’t complain, if the job is thoroughly done. I have done some lovely sightseeing while here.”

“Yes, Jor told me all about that too,” she replied, trying to fill her voice with more disapproval than she felt.

Silais, of course, was not fooled. “I wouldn’t trust what your assistant says,” he continued eagerly, emboldened by her indulgence. “I wouldn’t dream to badmouth anyone, but I don’t think he is very fond of me.”

“I have no ill feelings towards you,” Jor stepped in, puffing his chest. “Though I might begin to if you persist in speaking of me as if I weren’t present.”

Silais smirked. **“** You have more spine than I thought.”

“I don’t need flattery, especially not for you.”

“Don’t call it flattery until you hear how little spine I thought you had.”

The two of them could go on for hours – Leia had seen it firsthand. Ever since Silais had been with them, Jor seemed to have made it his mission to defend the Republic and everything it stood for.

Leia left the two of them to it; they most likely wouldn’t break anything, and she needed to find her speeder’s keys.

“I was indulgent with you because you are a diplomatic guest. You are the one who overstepped your boundaries!”

“Name one time.”

“You dragged me to a brothel!”

“Of course not,” Silais answered primly. “It was a cabaret. Perfectly respectable and chaste.”

“He described it otherwise,” Leia commented idly as she took her coat out of the closet.

“Whatever activities the ladies lead on the side is their own business. I took no part in it.”

“Could have fooled me,” Jor mumbled from beside her.

Silais scoffed. “Complete defamation, as the idea didn’t even cross my mind. No really,” he added in response to Jor’s skeptical look. “To each their own, but there were _far_ too many humans for my taste. No offense.” He shook his head. “No, no, what Jor saw was merely… professional curiosity.”

“Professional curiosity,” Jor repeated flatly.

“Yes. I used to work in a place very much like that one. Not as entertainment though.”

Jor snorted. “Is that what they called it?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“That… is actually fair.” Silais shrugged. “Though really, most there needed the money. And the owner was a stickler on hygiene – they came from an asexual species, you see. Could barely stomach the thought of any sort of infection happening under their roof.”

“Were you sanitation then?”

It was an amusing thought, this fastidious man in a janitorial uniform, too large and in a dull grey. Leia couldn’t picture him as anything other than miserable.

Silais proved just how right she was when he sniffed in disgust. “Mercy, no. That place could never be anywhere near clean; to try would have been a fate worse than death.” “I hosted the show and made sure the patrons didn’t get too handsy. Took care of the staff too. It’s easier to feel safe when someone actually has clothes to hide weapons in.”

“Did they have reason to feel threatened?”

“Well...” Silais’ face became much more somber then. Leia doubted she had ever seen him as serious. “The planet we were on was in the middle of a squabble between two Imperial clans. Soldiers would come to unwind. They weren’t always considerate with the non-human staff.” His smirk turned vicious. “They were quickly corrected though, by me or anyone else.”

Jor looked a bit squeamish at that, though he made a conceding gesture. “Well, self-defense is only fair, I suppose.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Speciesists are quick to use violence, I’ve found.”

“Especially when they’re drunk.”

“So why do you work for someone of known human-supremacist background?” Leia asked. Her voice was light, but there was no doubt about how serious she was. Her question cut through the room, leaving behind a few seconds of silence during which she kept her eyes on the Twi’lek’s reaction.

Beside him, Jor gave her a proud smile.

Silais, for the first time, looked almost sheepish. “Supreme Leader Hux isn’t _always_ drunk…”

 “Imperials were known for their human supremacist sentiment,” Leia pressed. “I doubt Hux is any different, even if he doesn’t act on it. How do you put up with it? Or do you simply not care anymore?”

For a moment, it looked as if Silais was going to hunch on himself. Not quite out of shame, it seemed; it looked more like polite embarrassment at an awkward situation. For all his lack of integrity, he at least appeared to have some self-awareness.

But then his charming, careless smile reasserted itself, and he laughed as if the whole issue was nothing but an amusing misunderstanding. “You must understand, Senator. The people were nice, the boss was fair, but the planet was a rock! It didn’t even have a name, just a series of letter and numbers! I had never planned on staying there in the first place, I only got stuck because the Imperial wars were a nightmare on traffic. When the chance came to leave, I took it.”

“So it was desperation?”

“Well, yes? I hadn’t _planned_ on working for Hux. My plan had been to sneak on the ship, wait until the next stop, then sneak back out. I couldn’t have known there was a Force user aboard. Many could have been killed for it. I got a job offer instead.” His tone turned almost exaggeratingly polite. “Is that all you wanted to know?”

“I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable,” Leia answered just as politely.

Silais’ lips twitched. “Worry not, I appear to be in a sharing mood today.”

If that was the case, then Leia saw no reason not to be blunt. “Do you want to go back?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“From what you told me, you were forced into this situation. Now you have a way out. Don’t you want to take it?”

“And what an accolade that would be for the Republic,” Silais drawled. His voice didn’t quite lose its humor, for all that he sounded unimpressed. “An envoy from the Outer Rim sees the Republic, is charmed by the culture, defects on the spot. That story would spread like wildfire.”

Leia frowned.  “This isn’t about that.”

“Oh, I am _sure_.”

“They will not be able to reach you here. We could invent a pretext for you to stay, and then you simply won’t return once this crisis is over. If Hux objects, then you claim political sanctuary.”

“And what would I do here? I have little to my name, no means of finding housing, no one here to help me along. Whereas back in the Outer Rim, I have standing, all my needs provided and no shortage of entertainment.”

“We could help. Find you a job, housing, we could…”

“I’m sure you believe it to be a help. But I assure you, I am very happy with my current position, strange as that may seem to you.”

“Hux has no respect for you.”

“Well, he never did get over our first encounter,” Silais mused. “I may have called him a pissimp, which in retrospect was not the smartest of moves. He got angry.”

“What is a pissimp?” Jor asked, frowning in concentration as he typed on his datapad.

Silais turned towards him, eyes wide. “Are you _writing this down?_ ”

Jor blushed at that, though he raised his chin defiantly. “Any information is valuable for preparation,” he retorted, staring Silais down while his fingers kept on transcribing the conversation. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“It has the word “piss” in it. Take a guess!”

Leia huffed out a laugh. “That would make Hux angry, yes.”

“Though not as much as Ren,” Silais retorted. “I didn’t even insult _him_ , and he _still_ looks like he is one step away from strangling…”

His voice died down when he glanced at Leia. “Ah, I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.”

Leia didn’t even wince. “It’s fine.”

“So stoic. You remind me of dear Lady Hux.”

“I am not sure that is a compliment.”

“Oh, but it is! At least, coming from me! Staunch characters; women of conviction, they delight me!”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she answered tonelessly. “If you’ll excuse me, I do need to get going.” She turned towards Jor with as calm a smile as she could muster. “I trust you’ll take care of things?”

He nodded, not that she expected anything different. 

That was all she needed to turn on her heels and head for the door. 

“Where is she going?” she heard Silais ask behind her. The door shut on Jor’s exasperated response.

Leia didn’t pause to compose herself. For all her sorrow at Ben’s fate, it took more than a passing mention to completely unravel her. For all that the thought of her son’s violence stung, it wasn’t much of a revelation. She had witnessed it firsthand.

Besides, she needed to hurry if she didn’t want to be late to the spaceport. She quickened her step as she made her way to the hangar. Not outright running, but fast enough and with enough determination on her face so that others would know not to interrupt her. It was a skill she had ample time to perfect over the years as a Princess, Senator or General.

Sadly, it didn’t work on idiots.

When she made her way through the patio as a shortcut, she heard her names called out in a voice she recognized all too well. She resisted the urge to cringe.

“Organa!” said one of her colleagues as he approached her. A human like herself, although his demeanor made him look like an eel more than anything. Long limbs and a long face combined with a smile that managed to be both slippery and stiff. “I hadn’t expected to see you out here. Shouldn’t you be preparing for the upcoming general assembly?” His smiled widened, revealing a few tobacco stains at the bottom of his teeth. “It wouldn’t do for complacency to be your downfall.”

Leia didn’t even bother forcing a smile. She wouldn’t play his game. “Your concern is appreciated, Senator Kark, but unnecessary.”

The man’s smile faltered a little, a sneer threatening to take its place. “I only hope to ensure that tomorrow’s debate is all that it should be. Might I ask where you are going?”

“To the Galactic port,” Leia answered simply, as if she didn’t know Kark was already aware.

He thought himself clever. Leia had never bothered disabusing him of the notion.

“Ah, yes. Your brother arrives today, doesn’t he?” He chuckled. It was a humorless sound that was well matched to his scrutinizing eyes. “A Jedi in the capital. Rather at odds with our secular Republic, is it?”

For all that she tried not to rise to the bait, Leia couldn’t stop her shoulders from stiffening. Fortunately, it was a small enough movement that Kark probably didn’t notice. He would have relished in it.

“He is a private citizen,” she said through gritted teeth. “Able to go where he pleases.”

“A force user with the ear of one of the Senate’s most renowned. The Senate has long decided that matters of state and matters of the Force,” he spit out the last word with his usual contempt, “should never intercross again. Not if we wish to avoid the same sort of tyranny we suffered under the Empire.”

“Is there a point to this?”

“I would advise you to be careful, Organa,” he hissed. “Your personal interests should not come above the safety of the Republic.”

If he thought to harm her by unsubtly bringing up Ben, he was sorely mistaken. If there was one thing her son would never be, it was a weakness. 

No, for all the sorrow she felt, Ben would always be the goal, motivation, and strength behind her actions.

“If you have such concerns,” she replied, fighting his bile with false cordiality, “then perhaps you should take them to my brother directly. He would be more than happy to assuage your fears.”

“I have nothing to say or prove to a Jedi.” Kark said the word as if it were a slur. “They should just stay on their island, where they can do no harm.”

“Jedis are the reason we managed to defeat Snoke.”

“Force users are the reason we had that war in the first place! Forgive me for being disinclined toward interacting with them.”

It wasn’t a new sentiment, but Leia cringed all the same at hearing it again.

The recent war had put the Force back at the forefront of public consciousness. Yet for all of Luke and his students’ heroism, news of Snoke’s powers had sparked fear in the general population. It had abated once the fighting ended, but lingering mistrust remained.

And disgusting men like Kark were eager to feed it for gain.

“If you think you need forgiving, then perhaps you should rethink your actions?” Leia answered sweetly, before letting her expression turn cold. “My brother has put his life on the line several times for the sake of the Galaxy. So have his students. A little gratitude wouldn’t be remiss.”

“My gratitude goes to the soldiers and pilots that have fought for us. Though I understand you don’t share the same concern for them.”

The image of Poe’s understanding smile as she told him he was to stay behind flashed through her mind, along with the regular stab out guilt.

Kark smiled nastily at her, obviously sensing her distress. She hated him.

“Good day, Senator Kark,” she said tonelessly, willing her face into an impassive mask.

With that, she turned on her heels and marched out of the garden. Years of experience in war allowed her to keep her head high during what was essentially a retreat.

All throughout, she could feel Kark’s smug eyes sliding over her back. She resisted the urge to sneer in disgust.

It took her two more minutes for her to reach her speeder. Unlike most Senator’s, it was neither state-of-the-art nor particularly flamboyant. All the better to be inconspicuous, a quality she especially appreciated these days.

The Space-port wasn’t all that far away, yet the flight there felt like an eternity. The joy she felt was tainted by nerves, a persistent churn in her stomach that was far too similar to the one she felt whenever she used to look upon Ben’s picture.

Leia rarely forgave herself for her failures. Especially the most subtle but important kinds.

And yet, when she arrived at the Space-sport to find him standing on the deck, she couldn’t help her sigh in relief or her smile. For a moment, it was as if this were an ordinary day in an ordinary life.

Just a sister picking up her brother after his shuttle landed.

“Luke,” she breathed out, stepping out of her speeder.

“Leia,” her brother answered back with a smile.

They looked at each other for a moment, a long while; she didn’t know for sure. Luke’s hair was much longer than the last time she saw him, his beard fuller. His robes were the same as always, though the beige seemed slightly faded with use. There were more lines on his face than she remembered.

He looked older. It was jarring, an immense disconnect from her mental picture of him. One that made her just realize how long it had been since she last saw him. There had been the celebration at the end of the war, she remembered. After that…. Well, he had been just a holocall away.

A holocall that she had made less and less often as time went by.

They were both busy.

That was the excuse she had given herself.

Luke spread his arms open at the same moment Leia rushed into them, leaning her face against his chest and closing her eyes.

Oh, but she had missed this. Had missed _him,_ far more than she had let herself realize.

 “I’m very glad you’re here,” she whispered, stepping away just enough so that she could look at his face properly. “I didn’t want to be alone for this.”

“You’re never alone.”

She smiled at the sentiment, though part of her couldn’t help but silently disagree. She moved to help Luke with his luggage – just one bag, the frugal man – only to startle when it levitated out of her hand and into the trunk.

She had half in mind to scold Luke for using the Force in public, but thought better of it. The Republic’s general ingratitude was a sore spot for him; for all his Jedi virtue, she doubted time had truly dulled the sting. Instead, she watched as he wordlessly sat in the passenger seat without having to be prompted to do so.

Luke was an excellent pilot, but it had been years since he had been subjected to Hosnian Prime traffic. She didn’t trust him not to break several laws because he wanted to slalom between shuttles.

For a moment, it looked like they would do the return trip in silence. It probably would have been less comfortable than in the past, but Leia wouldn’t have minded. Though there was much to say, she suddenly found herself uncertain of where to start. (The feeling was becoming distressingly familiar.) A silent speeder-ride would allow her to plan exactly what she was going to say.

But Luke had other plans.

“Any news from Han?” he asked tentatively. For all that he appeared calm, she could almost _feel_ the trepidation rolling off of him in waves. 

There would have been a time when Leia would have snapped at the mere mention of that name. Now, she only breathed heavily. “No.”

If there was one subject she was certain she didn’t want to talk about, it was this one. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to shut the conversation down. For years, she had closed herself off as soon as Luke mentioned the name, despite the obvious pain it caused her brother.

It seemed cruel to deny him yet again, especially when Luke had come as soon as she had called.

“Does he even know?”

“I don’t know. Who even knows where that nerf-herder is right now.” That wasn’t true. She remembered Hux mentioning him in an obvious effort to goad her. And Ben, if the look on her son’s face was anything to go by. “I think he might. He worked with Hux a few times.”

“He would have told you if he were sure.”

Leia’s hand tightened around the steering wheel. “Probably.”

“And you didn’t call him when you found out.”

It wasn’t a question, nor even an accusation. Just a statement of fact, and that somehow made it worse. “He wouldn’t pick up even if I did,” she replied sharply. Her tone sounded defensive even to her own ears. Her turn on the next intersection was sharper than it needed to be.

All in all, it was a poorly convincing excuse.

“He would answer in a heartbeat,” Luke looked at her sadly. “You know that.”

He was right. That’s why his words stung so badly.

“I couldn’t forgive him then. I don’t think anything has changed now.”

“Think?”

“I’m not sure of much right now.”

She had thought of calling Han, several times. Every time her hand hovered over her holocom. Every time her voice would disappear in her throat, like it always did in the last days Han and her spent together; when she couldn’t even look at him without her heart filling with blame.

 “He lost him, Luke. Even now, Ben is lost.”

And her lingering anger would justify itself with the reminder that Ben knew where Han was, and made no move to contact him. That Ben wanted even less to do with him than her, and that bringing him in might jeopardize any chance she had at saving her son.

But all of those were half-truths at best, and she would never lie to Luke.

Her brother’s hand came up to squeeze her arm reassuringly – which wasn’t all that safe when she was using it to steer the speeder through traffic. But it made her smile anyway **.**

After that, it didn’t take long to reach her apartment. By that point it was late enough in the evening that they met no one on the way back save a few droids that offered to help Luke with his luggage.

They hadn’t spoken a word the whole time through. The quiet had been comfortable at first, but had grown heavier and heavier as Luke took in a city that had all but pressured him to leave years ago. When the door to her home slid open, the sound had seemed almost impossibly loud through the silence.

Luke entered the apartment first. “You redecorated since I last came here,” was the first thing he said. A somewhat trite comment that still managed to hold worlds of meaning.

She nodded. “A few times since you last came here.”

Silence fell as Luke looked around the room, eyes lingering over every surface as if he had never seen it before. His gaze landed on the large window of her living room, giving a near-panoramic view of Hosnian Prime.

 “It’s been a while,” Luke said softly, and Leia knew he wasn’t referring to her apartment. “I can’t say I missed it.”

“It has it has its good point,” Leia remarked, though there wasn’t much force behind her words. Luke had every reason not to be fond of this place. “How’s Rey?” she asked, switching to a far more pleasant subject.

Luke’s face brightened at the mention of his daughter, like it always did. “She’s doing well. She would have loved to come along, but she’s been helping some of the newest children settle in.” His expression turned wistful. “The temple had been far too empty.”

“I had no idea you had new padawans.”

“Three, actually. One of them is Mora’s brother.” He chuckled. “And just as much of a handful, by the looks of it.”

“Well, at least you have some practice now.”

“True. And Mora’s going to be there to help.” He smiled ruefully. “I know the old Order would take issue with family members, but that ship hyperspaced when I began training Rey.”

Leia smiled at that. She remembered Luke’s worry at balancing being a Jedi master and a father; worry for nothing when he turned out to be excellent at both. “She couldn’t have hoped for a better teacher.”

“To be fair, I was the only one around at the time. But thank you.”

She couldn’t think of anything else to say.

Silence fell once more.

“How is he?” Luke finally asked, his voice low and terribly gentle. It didn’t stop his words from knocking the breath out of her.

To be fair though, any mention of Ben tended to have that effect on her.

“Healthy, I would guess,” she replied, her halting voice betraying her own uncertainty. Memories of Ben flashed before her eyes, halting on the image of him as she saw him on that first day. Despite everything, part of her couldn’t help but marvel at how much her little boy had grown. “He is so tall and broad now. Like those heroes from the holos he used to watch.” And he used to run in the halls with a blanket tied around his shoulders, making it float behind him with the Force.

“He has this scar across his face,” she continued, her hand trailing across her nose to mimic its  trajectory. “I don’t know how he got it. I can’t say much beyond his appearance, he wouldn’t…” She swallowed. “He wouldn’t talk to me.”

Tears burned at the corner of her eyes, despite all her efforts to keep them at bay. She turned her head the side in an effort to hide them, tensing her shoulders to keep them from shaking.

Luke, of course, was not fooled.

He made a move to hug her, but this time she batted his hands away. “Don’t, I…” she started, wiping her eye furiously as she tried to cling to her composure. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine, not by a long shot. But she couldn’t let herself cry over this.

She just couldn’t.

“You always do this.” Luke said quietly. He didn’t try to hold her again, though Leia could tell he wanted to. “You refuse to be comforted whenever you think you failed. Ever since I met you…” He sighed, looking at her almost pleadingly. “You’re not alone, Leia.”

“But Ben was.”

The words escaped from her in a weak voice, almost a whimper. They resonated loudly between them, filled with all the horrors that she had imagined over the years.

All that had been confirmed just two weeks ago.

And just like that, it was like a dam had been broken, and Leia couldn’t stop the rest from pouring out of her lips.

“I keep thinking about it. About what he went through, what he suffered. About how he claims to be happy, even when he is still...”

She took a deep breath, fighting down the panic that was threatening to rise within her. She started drawing her hands behind her back, or even straight along her side, but Luke’s hand on her arms stopped her.

She looked at him. He still looked cautious, ready to let go of her as soon as she said the word. But she did nothing, and let him guide her towards the couch. Let him sit down beside her, and slowly bring her head to rest against her shoulder. His hand came to rest against her lower back, giving her ample room to pull away should she wish to.

The message was unspoken, but clear: This wasn’t a speech before the Senate, or even a rally before her troops. This was her brother.

She could lean on him.

Leia felt tears prickling at the corner of her eyes, this time of gratitude and sorrow.

She could have had this so much sooner, if only she had made the call.

“And I know I should be grateful that it isn’t worse,” she continued. Her voice was softer, and calmer. Luke’s hand kept on stroking her back. “I know I should be grateful that he hasn’t been killed, or given to a Hut, or…”

Her mind supplied the image of the poor Twi’lek at Jabba’s mercy, at how she danced and then begged as they all leered and laughed as she fell into the pit…

No, that hadn’t happened to Ben. But she thought of Magnora Hux’s words, the reason why she bought him in the first place. A _stress relief_ for her son; a whore. Nothing Leia had seen had indicated that that’s what Ben had been trained for, nothing Ben said implied that he viewed himself that way. But she didn’t know for sure.

That was one of the worst things, how little she knew.

“He was supposed to be a pleasure slave,” she concluded finally, that one sentence more than enough to voice her fears. “I’m not sure he isn’t.”

Though Luke’s breathing didn’t change, she felt his hand tense ever so slightly, fingers pressing into her back harder than before. “Did you see Hux force him?”

“No,” she answered, knowing her denial would lack any true reassurance. “Ben is the first to claim it’s consensual. That he wants it.”

Despite herself, she could feel her own hands tensing, slowly curling into fists. Her mind summoned the fleeting image of closing it around Ben’s clothes to yank him back to safety. That, and punching Hux.

“But he spent so much time as a slave, and all Hux had to do was not be cruel for Ben to be thankful. Hux is cunning, so he must have known what was happening. Even if he somehow cares for Ben, he must have known that there was no way Ben could fully consent. He must have known then, must know now. He doesn’t care.” 

She paused then, contemplating all the indignities Ben might have suffered under the guise of affection. That display during the first night’s dinner, with him sprawled like a cat on Hux’s lap, chest exposed for all to see and for Hux’s wandering hands. The whole display reeked of familiarity, and Ben himself had seemed unbothered. How often had he had to live through such things to be so completely unbothered by it all?

And then there was the other indignity, one that made her shake with anger, her own outrage threatening to choke her. “He _renamed him._ ”

In the aftermath of the war, there had been much talk of what to do about the remainders of Snoke’s army. Though there were a few Force users that had fought for him, the vast majority had been ordinary people from Republic space. Some of them youth that had gone missing during the years, reappearing as prisoners from the losing side.

Among them were a few that refused to acknowledge the distraught family that came to visit them. Leia had seen them purposefully not respond to the call of their name, openly denying their own identity. Claiming with pride a name given to them by whichever individual was the leader of their battalion.

There had been a fanatic fervor to these people. The belief that serving a higher being, serving Snoke, made them higher in turn. That their previous identity had been too low, too unworthy, and had to be erased. When confronted, she had heard them proudly recite that no sacrifice was too great for the sake of a New Order in the Galaxy, not realizing that the one they gave up everything for hadn’t cared for a second about anything beyond his own power.

Leia had wanted to help them, even before she wanted justice.

Most of them were still in prison today.

“I let that happen to him,” she said. Despite her previous resolution, guilt and anger threatened to overtake her once more. “I _stopped_ looking for him, I left him to his fate. I let him be cornered (?) and beaten and taken advantage off -”

“Don’t,” Luke cut her off sharply. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“But I…”

“Do you blame me?”

Here was a strange dimension to that question. Leia had been used to Luke as the teacher, didactic questions meant to guide his student of the day. Yet though she recognized part of that in him now, there was also such terrible vulnerability in his voice.

This was a question Luke didn’t entirely know the answer to, and it frightened him to find out.

“I am a Jedi. I use the Force. I didn’t find him either.” He clenched his jaw, and his voice turned pained. “All that power, and I was so powerless.”

The guilt in his voice matched her own so well. She reached out to squeeze his hand, hoping to give half as much comfort as he gave her.

She knew from experience that words sometimes weren’t enough.

“No one looked harder or longer than you. It took a war to make you stop. Don’t punish yourself for that.”

Luke’s words were meant to be comfort – and on some level, they were. But that kind of absolution was never something she could accept, unless it came from Ben and even then…

Leia stood up, took three steps to the wall and stopped. She had no true goal besides standing, working the tension building in her through locked knees and trembling hands.

Luke was watching from the couch, pointedly not following her. She was grateful for that, grateful for his presence, and didn’t want to shut him out again.

So she turned back towards him, towards his eyes devoid of any judgement and face full of sadness.

“The war…” she repeated, tasting the word on her tongue as if it would take on a whole new meaning. “You know, when Snoke died, I realized I used to think that everything would be solved, somehow.” She laughed, surprised to find no bitterness in her chuckles. Then again, what was there to be bitter of? She could hardly blame the Galaxy for proving her wrong. “It wasn’t a conscious thought. Saving the Galaxy is supposed to make everything better; killing the monster is supposed to save everyone.”

And the galaxy had become a much safer place when Snoke had died. That much couldn’t be denied. And Leia had been happy, and relieved, and proud of her men, but…

“Everyone was celebrating, and Ben was still gone,” she said, voice low. She had done it before, celebrate the end of the war despite all that she had lost. But in that victory she had avenged those who died.

The second time around, she didn’t have that comfort.

 “I barely let Rey out of my sight that night,” Luke said softly. She looked back at him to find his eyes slightly glazed over, obviously lost in memory.  “I spent the entire war terrified that I would lose her, and I… I didn’t dare to tell you, because you _did_ lose a child and it seemed so unfair to even mention something like that to you.”

As he spoke he hunched on himself. It wasn’t much, but enough to make him look smaller than she had seen him in a long time. And in a moment, the roles were reversed: she was back on the couch, her arms

“I wouldn’t have been angry at you,” she whispered.

It hadn’t even occurred to her that Luke would think such a thing. Though she grieved for what she had lost, though seeing Luke with his child was a painful reminder of Ben’s absence, she had never blamed him for his fortune. The distinction had been clear in her mind.

Obviously, it hadn’t been clear in her actions. Or perhaps it had needed to be voiced, and she hadn’t ever thought to do so.

 “I knew you wouldn’t have, most of the time. Still,” Luke added, “I couldn’t help you, in the end. I didn’t want to add to your burden on top of that.”

She could say that he wouldn’t have been a burden, that she would have found some place in her grief to make room for his own. She could have said that she should have known, should have remembered that her brother was more than the wise and serene Jedi Master he tried so hard to be.

But in the end, it didn’t change the past. “I’m sorry you felt that way. I’m sorry for the part I had in it.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“We didn’t talk much at all, did we?”

It was a strange thought, when they had fought a war together – again. But it was true. They had all been very good at not talking about the loss the shared. First it had been search-party logistics, then the rise of guerilla attacks against Republic planets. Then strategy in hunting down Snoke’s militia, and managing ships and soldiers, and then to celebrate the end of the struggle.

Avoidance, of course. Most of it on her end, probably. How could Luke not think she blamed him, even just a little?

And there was Poe, the childhood friend. That had been easier. Maybe because they had been conferring with each other constantly during the War, forcing her to move beyond her pain.

Maybe because she had held him in her arms when he was still a child crying out for his friend. She had held Poe Dameron as he cried the tears she would not allow herself to shed, and it had been the closest she had ever come to grieving.

“We should do it again,” Luke said. Though unshed tears hadn’t fully left his voice, it still sounded much more resolute than moments before. “The talking, I mean. We should do it more.”

“Do the talking?” Leia repeated with a smirk. “I imagine we do, if you can say that with a straight face.”

“I’m out of practice.”

“Obviously.”

“Maybe it’s a Jedi thing. One of my masters lived as a hermit in the desert, the other in a swamp. Maybe they rubbed off on me.”

Leia couldn’t help herself: she laughed.

“I missed you,” she breathed out in between her chuckles.  “I miss him. And Han too.”

Luke didn’t respond; he didn’t need to. He simply kissed the top of her head, like he always did simply because he towered over her. Like he hadn’t done in over a year.

“You found him,” he whispered against her hair. “That is a good thing. He is alive, he is healthy. He never fell into Snoke’s hands.”

“The shackles I think. And Ben shielding himself from him.” She exhaled slowly. “I guess he was content enough not to want to join him.”

Content because of Hux. It didn’t mean she was grateful for the man.

“Content… What to do then, if he is truly happy there?”

She shook her head. “He is a slave, Luke,” she replied sadly. “Loving his shackles doesn’t make him any freer.”

If only she could make Ben see it. Words wouldn’t work, not when he could barely tolerate speaking to her. Actions would go a long way into mending that bridge, but even then, trying to pull him away from Hux might burn it down again in seconds.

She needed to help him, but how?

Luke squeezed her hand. “You’re doing everything you can,” he assured her, proving once again that he didn’t need the Force to read her mind. “You’ll do right by him.”

“The Senate is supposed to assemble tomorrow,” Leia said in response. She pursed her lips. “I can’t believe I am pushing to defend Hux.”

“It’s not Hux you’re trying to defend though.”

Leia scoffed. “No, of course not. I’m thinking of all the people caught in the cross-fire, all because of Telana’s idiotic machinations.” She sighed. “I know most people on the Senate don’t believe it, and though it’s true I can’t blame them. I want to save Ben as much as I want to save all the rest of them.”

“It doesn’t make you selfish.”

“It does, in a way. But I can live with that. If there was ever a time I had to put my family first…”

She cut herself off. She had already wallowed in guilt far too much for one day; now was the time for action. “I don’t want Ben to think I would abandon him,” she said steadily, filling her voice with resolve. “I don’t want him to have any more reason to push me away.”

Luke opened his mouth to reply, but what he was going to say never made it passed his lips for he snapped his mouth shut almost a second later. He frowned and turned his head towards the door.

The doorbell rang before she could ask what troubled him.

“Athril?”  she asked when she saw Kogul standing in front of her. “Is something the matter?”

“It depends on your position,” he replied, face expressionless as usual. He handed to her a datapad

Frowning still, Leia began to read it. It seemed like an amendment of sorts, but why would Kogul –

Her eyes widened when she reached the bottom of the first page, past all the pomp and protocol; the true meat of the proposition.

“…. _for the sake of unity and the strength of our Republic we require that an motion that calls for warfare be passed with an 80% majority. Moreover, those of us with personal interest regarding the war should be made to stand down during the debate. While the right to vote is a sacred one, we cannot allow conflicts of interests to taint the integrity of these proceedings…”_

She stopped there. She had read enough.

Her hands tightened around the datapad until her fingers were white and the screen seemed about to crack. _“_ What is the meaning of this?”

“What it looks like.” Kogul replied coldly. His pitch black eyes seemed even stiller than usual. “This motion is being presented to the Supreme Chancellor as we speak, with more than enough pledges to support it. Don’t tell me you didn’t see it coming.”

“Are you the one responsible for this?” Leia asked, struggling to keep a lid on her anger despite everything.

“I’m hardly the sole instigator. Kark, Borlo, Shre’wla… There are many like-minded people of influence in the Senate.”

“None of which lied about which side of the debate they fell on.”

Kogul’s expression darkened. “I let myself listen to both sides of the argument before deciding. I owed _you_ nothing.”

“And I assume Kark and his associated have had plenty of time building up rebuttals to our arguments? It would have been a shame if you _hadn’t_ given them away.”

“If you hadn’t been so eager for allies you would have been more cautious in who you let attend your little brainstorming sessions.”

Rather than respond to that, Leia jerked her head towards the datapad, where the damn motion was still pulled up. “This will need to be voted upon.”

“Do you really think I would be standing in front of you if we hadn’t already secured the majority?”

No, he wouldn’t, would he?

Leia resisted the urge to hiss. “And here I thought we were meant to serve the people. So much for all those that will die in the crossfire. Tell me, at what point did you decide that Outer Rim citizens didn’t deserve our protection?”

“Don’t lie, Organa. This isn’t about the Outer Rim.” He drew himself up, as if size would intimidate her. “The Republic is not worth your son.”

“There is much more to this than Ben.”

“Yes, I agree.” For once, Kogul lost his usual air of ennui. His voice turned sharper, his tone more urgent and venomous. “There is Hux, and his ambition. There is letting ourselves play into his hands and giving him resources that he might turn against us in the future. There is launching ourselves into a war we are not ready for, against an enemy that is not our own. There is valuing our moral purity more than the lives of the soldiers we will send to the slaughter!”

“The citizens of the Outer Rim were our citizens once!” Leia hadn’t wanted to raise her voice, but if Kogul thought she lacked passion for anyone other than Ben, then he was sorely mistaken. “We abandoned them, and let Hux take over. If Hux is our ally, then we are bound to help him. If Hux is our enemy, the scion of the Empire, then we cannot allow them to suffer any longer.”

“You are an idealist.”

Leia lifted her chin. “After all these years I still take some pride in that. Don’t think it means I am incapable of dealing with the real world.”

“It is what allowed you to take down an Empire,” Kogul said. This time, his tone was not unkind. “But idealism only has a place in rebellion; not in government.”

He sighed then, visibly deflating as he did. He looked tired all of a sudden, almost pained. It struck Leia that he probably wasn’t enjoying this conversation any more than she was.

However, she hardly had any sympathy for him.

“Organa, you are a credit to the Senate. An asset. An extraordinary woman. I called you an idealist, and it wasn’t an insult; the Galaxy needs some in order to become better.” He was sincere, of that she had no doubt; but his respect meant little to her in that moment. “This motion will pass, and the Senate will vote not to support Hux. If you stand in protest, you will irrevocably damage your already fragile situation. For your sake, stand down on this battle.”

*****

And in the end, Kogul had been right.

As soon as the motion to support Hux had been put up for debate, Kark had presented his amendment before the Senate. And thus the entire first day had been wasted arguing whether or not the proposition was justified, whether it should be nuanced or not.

And in the end, it had passed with a majority, and made the rest of the proceedings entirely moot.

An 80% majority was nigh impossible to reach, especially in a situation as polarizing as this one.

Of course, her party had scrambled to come up with a new strategy, but it was easier said than done on such short notice and against such steep rules. That first day of debate had finished far too late to start anything worthwhile, and so after a short, frustration-filled meeting her colleagues had left for their homes far more pessimistic than she had seen them in a long time.

Leia had retreated into her office, unable to declare the day over by going home. Somehow, it would have felt like admitting defeat.

Yet sitting on the sofa mulling over the day’s events was hardly any better. Luke was there, silent, supportive, and with a lack of outrage that came with a lack of surprise. Jor was by her side, as usual, going through his notes of their last session.

Silais arrived shortly after they had settled down, having most likely left his appointed room as soon he had heard how the first day had gone down. As soon as he entered the room he gazed upon the three of them, his eyes lingering on Luke; took in the mood of the room; and then promptly ignored it in favor of speaking with uncharacteristic urgency.

 “Well, Senator, I hope you have a plan,” he said. His arms were crossed; the lack of hand movement to punctuate his words only reinforced how serious he was. “Otherwise, you are giving up far too quickly!”

Jor made a sound, which wasn’t unusual for him whenever Silais spoke. Far more uncommon was that it was a sound of agreement rather than disapproval. “I’m sorry, Senator, but I have to agree! There must be a way around this!”

Silais looked startled, but quickly recovered when Jor wouldn’t meet his eye. “Can’t you send your own men?” he asked, turning towards Leia once more.

Leia shook her head. “No. Though Hux is technically our ally, once the Senate decides not to engage in war then giving him support will be viewed as mutiny. And Kogul could also argue in favor of adding weapon trafficking and abuse of authority to the charges.”

Silais opened his mouth, closed it, and exhaled loudly. He walked away, only a few steps towards the bookshelf before pausing, and in an uncharacteristic show of hesitance he bit his lip.

Leia watched as he furrowed his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought, before throwing his head back with a groan. It was strange to see his thought process so visibly displayed rather than hidden behind a cocky smirk and exaggerated enthusiasm.

“You are taking this very poorly,” she remarked. It wasn’t all that surprising that he would care about the Outer Rim, although she hadn’t thought him as invested in the situation as he now appeared to be.

“Yes, well, I rather like my situation as it is,” Silais replied impatiently. “And I _would have_ liked having all the odds on my side.” He paused then, only half a second but long enough for Leia to catch it. “Especially considering the news I have received from Lady Hux.”

He was obviously baiting her, waiting for her to ask further questions. It was a tedious process when straight-forwardness would have been much more efficient. “What of it?”

“Kylo Ren is in the medical bay. He was brought down by a Force User.”

She froze. “A what?”

“A Force user,” Silais repeated, enunciating each word as if she were slow of mind.  “Who works for Favis.”

In a flash she had risen, the datapad on her lap clattering on the floor as she hadn’t even bothered setting it down. Jor yelped as she stormed passed him, nearly stepping on his feet as she marched towards the far too cocksure Twi’lek.

Luke hadn’t tried to stop her at all.

Silais startled slightly, but didn’t back down. It made things worse somehow.

She had half in mind to close her fists around his shirt and shake him, but she was much too small for that. So she settled on speaking as loudly as she could without actually yelling.

“Why didn’t you mention it earlier?!” she demanded, repeatedly stabbing his chest with her finger.

Her mind was racing. If Ben was injured, if she had lost him – but no, no, she would have heard of it, would have _felt it._ Or at the very least Luke would have.

He was safe – or at the least, alive.

But there was the matter of the Force user. There were so many questions, about his identity, his origin. But all that could have been dealt with afterwards if Silais had just told her, if she had the time to use it in their strategy….

“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” Silais defended himself, taking a step back to flee her insistent pointing. “I only learned it from Lady Hux a few hours ago, and wasn’t allowed to barge into the Assembly to reveal it then.”

It was hardly a satisfying answer, but whatever. She had better things to worry about now.

She turned away from him, walking towards the window to stare at the evening traffic. The come and go of anonymous cars had always helped her think.

A Force user… That changed things entirely.

An ordinary army lead by a man only known by name could only be so intimidating; even with the added menace of modern weapons, it hardly seemed like a threat in the face of a newly remilitarized New Republic.

A Force user was a different breed entirely. She couldn’t say how skilled Ben was today, but he had been strong in the Force since he was a child; she had witnessed him stop a blaster bolt mid-air. It was no ordinary man who could take him down.

A Force user was only one man, true, but it was the kind of threat the New Republic responded to. The only reason they had managed to fight against them during the War was thanks to Force Users of their own, and it was a weakness they had felt keenly. The temptation to kill that menace in the bud would be great, especially since for all they knew there were _more_ of them allied to Favis and -

No, no, that was fearmongering. Calling upon that would only exacerbate anti-Jedi sentiment; it would be a nightmare for Luke, never mind Ben. Leia couldn’t think that way. Though it might win her the New Republic’s support, it would also encourage mistrust and fear, would push the New Republic to seek absolute control over Force Users, something that was -

Out of their purview.

Oh.

Leia’s breathing hitched as it hit her. An idea, finally.

Not the best idea, admittedly, but she had made an art form out of making success from bad ideas, and this one…. This could work.

She felt a tentative grin stretch her face. She made no effort to push it down.

“You’re plotting,” Luke said, rising from the couch. It almost sounded like an accusation.

“Barely at all, really,” Leia answered distractedly, mind still pulling her plan together even as she spoke. “It’s more of a loophole. That’s I’m forcing open. Having a Force user as an enemy gives us an out.” She turned towards Luke fully, voice full of victory as she spoke. “Or strictly speaking, it gives _you_ an opening.”

“Me?”

“The Senate has made it clear that the Jedi Order should be separate from the Republic,” Leia explained; she couldn’t stop grinning. “ _Separate,_ not under. Free to investigate whatever issue falls under their purview.”

Luke raised his eyebrows, understanding dawning on his face. “And if an unknown Force User were to make his appearance…”

“Then it would be perfectly reasonable for the New Jedi Order to send out members to investigate…”

“Without it being labelled treasonous.” Luke nodded once, a pensive look on his face. “That’s stretching far beyond the spirit of the law. Nitpicking to the highest degree. Extreme bad faith.”

“Welcome to the Senate.”

“I’ll say.” His tentative smile told Leia he was on board with her plan.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, she felt true hope swell in her chest.

Her brother must have seen it in her, and his smile shifted to echo the sentiment.  “I’ve missed my nephew more than I can say. And I’m so happy that Rey will finally be able to meet her cousin.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, check out my new fic [On the Upper glass shelf](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10098113/chapters/22494314), aka the Toy AU featuring Kylo as a lead soldier with a crack on his face, and Hux as the porcelain doll high up on his shelf!


	7. Hux III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know these updates keep taking forever!! I'm sorry!!!
> 
> Hopefully, this is worth the wait. :)
> 
> As usual, this was beta-ed by the lover wren_ofthewildwood!

When Hux was five years old, he and his mother had been living on a small moon orbiting around a planet whose name was a string of letters and numbers. They hadn’t been the only Imperial refuges there.

All things considered, it hadn’t been the most unpleasant place to be: the climate was more forgiving than Arkanis’, the cost of living was cheaper than in most systems. At the time, his mother held a job as a maid. It was one of the few positions she could hope for: Lady Hux had never cooked in her life, nor had she done any sort of manual labor; cleaning, at the very least, was more a matter of following instructions than any sort of skill.

(He called her his mother now, but it hadn’t been quite true at the time. Then, their relationship had been a nebulous blur of gratitude, fear, and responsibility. Times when Lady Hux used him to inspire pity in the soft-hearted and followed by times pretending not to be related when other sort of charms were required to get ahead. Single mothers were far less enticing than single, confident mature women.)

Hux remembered Lady Hux grumbling at an indignity he himself hadn’t felt: to go from the bastard child of a kitchen worker to the not-quite-step-son of a maid was hardly any change. It was the same business of making himself useful while also making sure not to be seen. Only this time, he was older, and from time spent at Lady Hux’s side had learned disdain instead of fear.

How could he fear those same middle-aged men when there was no longer impeccably pressed uniforms to hide their lacking? Ruffled shirts and unshaved beards complemented untoned stomachs and faces still round from years of over-eating. Such men would sit in the dark, a glass of liquor in hand, swallowing down alcohol and spitting out bitter words full of helpless bile.

Lady Hux had called them pathetic; young Hux had believed her whole heartedly once she had explained to him what the word meant.

How low he had fallen then, to find himself in exactly that position tonight.

His liquor cabinet was wide open; he hadn’t even had the will to close it after scavenging its content, reaching for the bottles in the back. Strong liquor, stronger than what had been legal under the Empire.

Hux had acquired them especially for Kylo, whose tolerance for liquor went way past what could be considered reasonable. Hux didn’t know if the Force or mere genetics were to blame, only that it was ridiculously unfair. He himself couldn’t down two drinks without feeling extremely lightheaded.

So when he and Kylo would decide to dedicate their evenings to indulgence, there would be two bottles open, of different strengths. Sprawled out on the bed or on the floor, they would spend the night reveling in each other’s company, Hux gently sipping his drink while Kylo downed his in large gulps. Hux would ask for a taste, and Kylo would take another sip before bringing his mouth to Hux’s, and Hux would melt as the liquor poured down his throat while Kylo’s arms wrapped around him.

And now Kylo was…

Alive. Wounded, but healing. The scar would be invisible under his usual armor, and far enough from any joint that his movement wouldn’t be impaired. That had been a point of concern. It was important that Kylo retain his full abilities. They were an integral part of him, and it would have been a huge blow to him if he couldn’t swing that ridiculous light saber, jump into the fray, slash and hack and rip off his commlink in an display of idiotic recklessness while Hux shouted his name, knowing he wouldn’t hear, not knowing if he was alive or dying or –

He took another drink; a big one. The burn down his throat was more painful that pleasant, but that was rather the point.

He deserved a little hurt, if he was completely honest. This disaster was largely his fault.

He had been too eager, too impatient. He had wanted the situation dealt with as fast as possible; had wanted Favis in the ground and the Republic out of his life. And so he had acted too soon. Though the part of him that was kinder towards himself argued that had he arrived any later, Favis’ forces would have fully evacuated Belderone with little hint as to where they would go.

The other part of him harshly reminded him that they were no better off now; that had he waited and bided his time, he might have been far more successful despite the slight delay.

Who knew when he would get another chance. Especially without the Republic to back him, when he had been so _sure_ that their claim to the moral high ground would –

He barked out a laugh, short and bitter. There had been no reason to believe that the Republic would seek to make amends. Nothing except preconceived notions and Hux’s long habit of getting what he wanted.

He had grown complacent.

Kriff.

He poured himself another glass.

“Drinking at this hour?”

The voice came from the entrance to his room, and Hux resisted the urge to wince. He stubbornly held onto his glass as his mother slowly made her way to his side. She walked the short distance between the door and his sofa like the eyes of the entire Imperial court were upon her, and sat down across from him as if her chair were a throne. The look she gave him was tender but no less pointed.

He held her gaze and purposefully took another sip. She tutted. “Oh Brendan, really.”

“I am Supreme Warlord of the Outer Rim,” Hux said, trying to sound resolved rather than sullen. “I will drink if I want to.”

“I am your mother. I will express my disapproval over a nasty habit.”

Hus took another sip. “Now would be a good time to point out we are not related.”

Lady Hux frowned at that; her shoulders shifted almost imperceptibly in an aborted hunch. The wrinkles around her eyes creased as she narrowed them. This was what she looked like when hurt.  “Don’t say that.”

Again, Hux resisted the urge to wince. It was strange to him how such meaningless words could pierce his mother’s armor so. He had seen her take on far more verbal violence without so much as a wince, yet an ill-advised joke on his part was enough to wound her. “I did not mean it seriously,” he said. It was barely an apology. It was exactly as she had taught him to do.

“I know,” she answered calmly. Her gaze was fond, fonder than most would see in their life; it was just for him. “You are forgiven.”

Hux really didn’t care for the addition.

He took another drink instead of voicing that thought.

“At least you have good taste in liquor,” she added in a slightly teasing tone. “I like to think you take that from me.”

Hux shook his head; his general mood kept him from smiling fully, but he did feel the corner of his lips twitch. “No, that would be old man Pellaeon. He gave me sips from his reserve when you weren’t around.”

Magnora Hux paused in dismay. “You were _eight._ ”

Hux shrugged.

His mother looked miffed, eyebrows pulling into a frown as she pondered that revelation. “Well, there was no lasting damage done,” she finally proclaimed, somewhat reluctantly. “I had wondered why you were so fond of him.”

“He was kind.” And old. And full of mourning for a Grand Admiral Hux couldn’t remember the name of. So full of grief he couldn’t pick himself up after the fall save teach a boy the finer points of whisky. “Though he insisted on calling me Armitage.”

“Some misplaced conception of honoring your father, no doubt. They did know each other.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know what your father was thinking. Armitage Hux was a terrible name.”

Actually, it had been his biological mother who had picked the name. Hux didn’t know why; maybe it was what a kitchen maid thought an upper-class boy’s name should sound like. Maybe it had been the name of someone in her family, and his father had been sentimental enough to allow it.

It didn’t matter though, because that name hadn’t been his for long. Lady Hux had expressed her distaste for it almost immediately, and when she expressed the wish to call him Brendan instead he had been too frightened and too desperate not to be left behind to do anything else but meekly agree.

He might have objected to it later on, had he not noticed that the obvious echo to his father’s name brought them far more legitimacy than an awkward name ever did.

“He’s probably dead now,” he said aloud, bringing his thoughts back to old Pellaeon and his tales of brilliant strategy. “I suppose we wouldn’t know.”

His mother scoffed. “I didn’t take you to be a maudlin drunk.”

“I am not, as a matter of fact.” Hux looked down at his glass, and found it lacking. “I’m not even drunk.”

“You are usually more resilient.”

He groaned. “Don’t start.”

His mother “I know you worry about Kylo. I understand completely.”

He met her eyes. “Do you?”

His mother held his gaze, unflinching in the face of his skepticism. “I loved your father,” she said simply, as if that explained everything.

Maybe it did. He wouldn’t know; the only memory he had of the relationship between Brendol Hux and his legitimate wife was the childish understanding that it was a threat to him.

“I hate that he left my sight,” he confessed, though it was hardly a new sentiment. “I hate that he didn’t let me look out for him.” He leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “Everything unraveled itself so quickly.”

“You haven’t been beaten in a long time, it makes you ill-equipped to deal with defeat. But not even you can control everything.” His mother stepped forward, and squeezed his shoulder. “You are a resourceful, intelligent man who has faced adversity before. You will succeed this time as you have countless others.”

Magnora Hux’s praise was rare, her comfort even rarer, and the fact that he received both made Hux wonder just how pitiful he looked right now.

But his mother was never one for white lies, or unmeasured words. She meant what she said. And despite his hurt pride, he did feel better for it. She was the only one apart from Kylo who could solicit that kind of reaction.

“We’ll need a new plan,” he announced finally, standing up as if to separate himself from the sentiment. It was time to stomp simpering in a chair like a child.

What he needed was another drink.

“I can’t say I was fond of your first one,” his mother said from behind him. He could almost _hear_ the sneer. “We don’t need the Republic. They are not our friends.”

“Well, we’re still getting Force Users. Though I couldn’t possibly say if they are a friendly sort,” he drawled, opening a new bottle of weaker liquor; he considered it personal progress. “Loathe as I am to admit it, they will help.”

“Skywalker?”

There was such bile laced with that name that it gave Hux pause. He turned to see his mother’s usual mask come down in favor of something much darker. Almost murderous. “He’s coming? How?”

“By ship I would imagine. Kylo would have told me if Jedi’s could fly.”

“Don’t be smart,” she snapped. “You told Silais to disobey me.”

Hux blinked, nonplussed.  “Did I?”

He had no clue what she was talking about.

“You gave him the order to tell Organa about the Force user,” she pressed. “I ordered him not to for a reason, Brendan.”

“Yes, yes,” Hux said distractedly, turning back towards the bottle and pretending to pour himself some more. It gave him more time to think. “No trust. Republic scum. I am well aware.”

This was strange. Hux knew for a fact that Silais had informed Organa: the Twi’lek had owned up to it mere moments after their latest call began. Though Hux hadn’t been too happy with him for acting without orders, to saw nothing about revealing classified information, he had to recognize that Silais’ actions had secured him support he wouldn’t have gotten otherwise. So Hux had let it slide, though he had informed the slippery bastard that he may find himself once lekku short should he ever try again.

Yet his mother had ordered Silais to tell nothing, which she had no authority to do. And Silais had blatantly disobeyed, despite Lady Hux being his true protection in Hux’s society. That… wasn’t all that surprising, considering that Silais was a survivalist, above all else.

Still…

How interesting that Silais would be so bold. Hux wondered what he would do if Lady Hux were to find out.

He wondered what he would be willing to give Hux to make sure she doesn’t know.

Hux glanced at his mother. He had always granted her more leeway than most; she was his mother, after all. And besides, her image and their bond did a lot to endear him to the more ambivalent of his conquered systems.

But lately she had grown a little too… daring. Dangerously close to undermining him.

It would be good to have someone to keep an eye on her.

 “They are not our friends. We cannot trust them, and we do not need them.”

“I respect your opinion. I thought differently,” he lied. This was too good an opportunity to disabuse her of her notions. “To refuse available resources over pride is idiotic. I will not let ego get in my way.”

“You’re undermining my authority. Silais is mine!”

“You are his employer; I am his sovereign. Perhaps in the future you’ll know not to make any strategic decisions without my approval.”

His eyes were hard as he spoke these words; his tone was biting.

There would be no misunderstanding between the two of them.

Lady Hux said nothing for a long while. Hux could see the thousands of thoughts racing behind her eyes; yet in all the years of experience he had dealing with her, he had never been able to guess what she was thinking.

Probably something less than complimentary right now, but apart from that, he couldn’t tell. He didn’t like it one bit.

“I hope you do not regret this,” she said finally, slowly, inclining her head as if she were doing him a great favor.

“Don’t lie mother. Then you wouldn’t be proven right.” He paused for a moment, mulling over his next words; he couldn’t back down or compromise, but dulling the blow to her pride would be wise. “I understand your concerns. But this is my decision, and it is final.”

Lady Hux said nothing for a time, staring at him with pursed lips. Eventually, she nodded once, acknowledging her defeat.

“Now that spine I know you learned from me,” she said gracefully. Her smile was almost soft. “I am proud of you.”

Hux opened his mouth to respond a compliment of his own. It dissolved into sputters when his mother snatched the bottle from the table, and quickly retreated towards the cabinet.

“Hey!”

His mother ignored him, shoving the bottle in the cabinet. “You are worth much more than drinking alone in the dark.” She closed the cabinet doors, and locked it shut – where did she even get the key? “The reason I came here was to make sure you weren’t self-destructing from overworking yourself; this is hardly better.”

 “Now, Brendan, here is what it going to happen: it is one in the morning, and you will go to sleep. You can either do it on your own like a respectable warlord, or have your mother put you to bed like a five year old.”

She turned on her heels and left then, leaving Hux to glare sullenly at the cabinet. He turned away with a huff, and walked towards his holopad.

Organa’s message was still displayed, simple white font the brightest lights in the room.

Hux sighed, running his hand through his hair. The movement wasn’t nearly as satisfying ever since he cut it short.

He had to tell Kylo about this, of course. He doubted it would go over well. Most likely he would have to spend hours calming him down to reason with him.

He wasn’t looking forward to it.

But first, he needed to sober up.

 

*

 

By the time Hux felt ready to leave his quarters, it was already nighttime. The halls were deserted as he made his way towards the medical ward.

It suited him just fine. He wasn’t about to make conversation.

His steps faltered as he came near the medical ward and heard two voices echoing through the halls.

Kylo wasn’t alone.

For a moment, Hux’s mind flared in alarm: no one was supposed to be here, someone had to sneak in, it was an attack, Kylo was in -

Then just as quickly reason asserted itself: if Kylo were threatened, there would be much less talking involved. He would have reached out with the Force to warn Hux, at the very least, like the last and only time he had been in distress.

Whoever was with him wasn’t a threat. That was of very mild comfort.

The voices grew more distinct as he came closer. Kylo spoke too softly to make out anything more than the pitch of his voice. His interlocutor had no such qualms.

Hux clenched his fists. He knew to whom that second voice was.

He had grown distressingly familiar with it these past weeks.

He slowed his steps as he approached the door, trying very hard not to feel like a spy in his own base.

 “Look,” Dameron said, voice chiding and gentle and humorous at the same time and Hux wanted to choke him. “All I’m saying is that you should go slow for the next couple of days.”

Kylo responded, but Hux couldn’t hear his words through his sullen murmur. He scooted closer towards the door.

“Yes, I know that, but a few days won’t kill anyone.”

“I need to get stronger,” Kylo hissed, louder this time.

“Bantha shit. You’re plenty strong as it is.” There was that joking tone again. “If you get any more muscle, my tiny self won’t be able to carry you next time you get your idiot self into danger.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

“You get into stupid shit. It’s in your blood, Solo.”

“Don’t call me that.”

The objection was familiar. The lack of heat in Kylo’s words wasn’t. He sounded tired more than anything else.

Hux felt his stomach drop.

“Right, sorry,” Dameron said. The cheerfulness was gone, replaced by deep uncertainty and discomfort that Hux couldn’t quite revel in.

There were no words for a long time; Hux was certain that the silence would reveal him, that his loud breathing would give him away. Maybe Kylo knew he was here anyway, maybe he sensed him with the Force and was just humoring him, or worse letting him hear him getting _civil_ with Dameron like a message to –

No, no. That was ridiculous. Far more likely was that Kylo was still too tired from his injuries

“I don’t usually need back up. I haven’t in years.” He heard Kylo swallow. “I’m lucky you were there though.”

Hux had been there. Hux could have looked over Kylo, if only Kylo had let him.

“Don’t mention it. Scared the crap out of me though.”

“I know.”

There was a heavy pause.

“War isn’t at all like what we thought, is it?” Dameron said with a sigh. “It was more fun when we were five.”

“I enjoy it,” Kylo answered flippantly. Hux felt his lips twitch.

“Really?”

“Fighting, yes. It makes me feel free.”

“Flying does the same for me. I don’t care for seeing my friends bleed tough.”

“You gave me more nosebleeds than I can count.”

“First of all, 90% of those were accidents. Second, we were five and you used to do the same. Third, and most importantly, that wasn’t a nosebleed, Kylo.”

“It was kind of the same.”

“You had a vibroblade slashed against your ribs! How was that the same?!”

“I was bleeding.”

“Mother of…”  Dameron started, before closing his mouth with a snapped. He let out a huff. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

Kylo laughed then. It was loud, and earnest, and in good humor and Hux….

Hux had to step in.

“I wasn’t aware you were given access to the med bay, Dameron,” he said as soon as he made himself known. He kept his voice as flat as possible, conveying only displeasure rather than any other feeling he would never admit to.

Dameron, damn him, was unrepentant. “I wasn’t aware it was forbidden.”

“Security reasons,” Hux answered with minimum politeness. “I am sure you understand.”

Dameron opened his mouth, probably to some insolence, but then appeared to think better of it. “Okay,” he said casually, far too casually. He had never been prone to deference, but it seemed like his new standing with Kylo made him even more cocksure than usual. “I’ll just see myself out then?”

“If you would kindly.”

Dameron gave a salute that was only half-respectful before turning towards Kylo again. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I don’t see what I could do while bed-ridden.”

“You’ll find a way.”

Kylo smiled at him. Hux hated it.

“You should be resting,” he said as soon as Dameron was out of ear’s reach. It sounded far more reproachful than he intended; he mollified his words with a caress on Kylo’s face.

Kylo groaned in irritation. “That’s all I’ve been doing for the past days. I have no sleep left in me.”

“You can’t quantify sleep.”

“ _You_ can’t.”

Hux huffed out in amused irritation as he sat down. His movements were a little too rough, making Kylo wince as he jostled the bed.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Kylo answered quickly in a reassuring tone. His brows were pinched in pain though.

Hux frowned. “I thought the bacta would have taken the pain away, at least.”

“I asked them to use as little as possible.” Kylo’s shrug was undermined by the edge of pain that still laced his voice. “We’re at war, we’ll need to ration it as much as possible.”

“There is more than enough for you.”

“But I don’t need it.”

Hux really wanted to argue the point, but he knew better. Kylo could get incredibly stubborn about these things. Performing shows of strength that needn’t be, by some criteria that was only known to him. Hux had learned long ago to simply leave  him to it.

He would ask the doctor to discretely up the dose once Kylo was asleep.

Kylo nudged him, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Have you come to yell at me?”

“What makes you think that?”

Kylo shrugged. “It seems like the kind of thing you’d do.”

“I already ranted at your unconscious body. Anything else would be redundant.”

Hux fully expected Kylo to come up with an answering jab. Instead, he was confronted with a familiar, perceptive gaze.

“You’re stalling,” Kylo said pensively. His voice was filled with a quiet confidence that made Hux wonder if he wasn’t reading his mind after all.

He almost thought of denying Kylo’s statement, then thought better of it.

There was no way to avoid this. Better get it over with now.

“Organa is coming. Along with Skywalker.”

He braced himself for the oncoming outburst.

It didn’t come. Kylo was staring at him, face devoid of expression save a slight crease between his eyebrows.

 “The Senate has elected not to give the support they owe us,” Hux continued carefully. “The Jedi aren’t the Senate though, and that’s a loophole Organa exploited. Whatever our feelings, we need to be pragmatic about this, we cannot-”

“Good.”

Hux blinked. “Pardon?”

“I’m glad they are coming. I need them.”

He stilled.

That… wasn’t the reaction he had expected.

Kylo wasn’t one for self-sacrifice – not even that banta-shit excuse of rationing bacta. He didn’t suffer anything with any sort of grace. So why was he so eager to have his family return?

“That’s a new sentiment.” Hux tried to keep his tone casual. It came out sounding strangled.

Kylo _shrugged,_ as if there was nothing wrong with what his sudden change of heart. “Things have changed. I need to get stronger. I need to _train_.”

 Hux didn’t answer. Couldn’t fully articulate a thought through the buzz that had settled in his mind.

Kylo didn’t notice though. He was almost frantic now, and Hux only watched him struggle with his words. “I’ve managed long enough with my instincts and vague recollections of before, but against a trained Force User it’s not going to hold up. I need guidance.” He took a deep breath, and spoke his next words with an air of certitude that made Hux’s insides freeze. “Master Skywalker is the best chance I have.”

“I see,” Hux said after a moment, when Kylo had _finally_ stopped talking. “And how long do you plan to continue this training?” His tone was sweet; his voice was cold. He didn’t care. “You must have been mulling it for a while now.”

Kylo was looking at him in a mixture of confusion and apprehension. “Hux…”

“Such a sudden change of opinion,” he mused in a casual voice that fooled no one. “Should I chalk it up to your impulsiveness?”

Hux barely had any control over his own words or his tone. His mouth and his frozen insides were in direct communication, pouring out bile freely while his mind repeated Kylo’s words obsessively. _I need them, I need them, I need them I need them I…._

“You said Skywalker was required,” Kylo said defensively. His cheeks were reddening in burgeoning anger. “You invited him yourself!”

“Not just Skywalker. Organa as well, remember?” Hux smiled humorlessly. “You’ll have ample opportunity to explore this newfound acceptance of yours.”

“If you have a problem, just say it! Don’t play games.”

“There is no problem. But before you go and play at family with them, consider that we have a war to prepare!”

“Do I look like I’ve forgotten?!”

 “I hope not,” Hux sneered. “I don’t have time to bring neglectful slave to heel.”

Kylo’s eyes turned dark. “Careful, Hux,” he hissed, voice low. His fists clenched around the blanket of his cot. His bedframe shook and creaked.

Hux forced out a scoff. “What should I be careful of? You’re still too wounded to smash things around.”

Kylo eyes turned darker still. “You were always one for tactical advantages,” he said slowly. Each word was laced with more spite and venom than Hux had ever heard from him. “Maybe with further training I will be able to overcome these wounds. And then we’ll see if you aren’t even a little afraid **.”**

Hux jolted back. Before he knew it, he was standing up, looming over Kylo like… Like he was trying to get the upper hand, like he was trying to intimidate an enemy.

Kriff. _Kriff!_

Kylo’s threat wasn’t even overt, but it was there. The implication of violence, Hux’s own menacing tone, it wasn’t… None of it was…

This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go.

Hux had no idea how to fix it.

Kylo looked just a shaken as Hux felt. His mouth was still parted open, as if shock had immediately followed his last words. His eyes were wide.

Hux took comfort in the fact that they were still looking at each other.

“It’s good that we are in agreement over the necessity of Organa’s support,” he said in a shaky, overly formal voice. He ran his fingers through his hair, resisting the urge to pull. “Her shuttle arrives in a few days.”

Kylo nodded once. His face was pale. “Good.”

Hux felt sick.

“You should rest until then. I’ll leave you to it”

He turned on his heels before Kylo could say a word, heading straight for the door.

It didn’t matter anyway, because Kylo didn’t call after him. Hux tried ignore the pit in his stomach at that.

He thought of nothing except for making his way through the halls, not stopping for a moment until he was back in his quarters, until the door was shut and locked behind him.

Then he collapsed against the door, biting the back his hand to keep any scream or sob from coming out.

*****

The first time Hux had welcomed Republican delegates, it had been an opulent affair. Then, it was a show of strength and a battle he thought he mastered. A careful calculated performance designed to have the Republic recognize him for the power that he was rather than the leader of a rag-tag group of survivors it imagined him to be.

It had been flamboyant. It had been triumphant.

It had been a moment of pride before a slap in the face.

There would be no honor guard this time around. No grand tent, no celebration of their arrival. Hux had neither the resources nor the inclination for that sort of display. He had avoided begging for help through technicalities and one valuable hostage, but that didn’t make the situation any less dire.

Any sort of prideful display would be pathetic at this stage; Organa certainly wouldn’t be fooled.

Hux’s time was better spent preparing for his counter strike, which was exactly what he had been doing for the past week. Looking over numbers, weaponry, star charts from both old Imperial archives and local astronomers, there was too much work to waste time on decorum.

Still, he had conceded to welcoming Organa and her crew upon their arrival, if only to avoid outright insulting them. So when his men had received a request for landing just moments ago, he had reluctantly begun putting most of his work away.

The Republic pilot’s voice had been female, and not someone Hux recognized. He wondered if she was one of the Jedi Organa had bought along.

Did Jedi even fly ships? Kylo had never had any taste or talent for it, but that didn’t make it a general rule.

“Some do, actually, and are very good at it,” Kylo said from where he stood in the doorway. Hux hadn’t even noticed him entering. “Jedi reflexes and all.”

Hux stifled a sigh. “Don’t do that,” he said in a voice that lacked any sort of heat. In any other circumstances, he would have objected much more strongly at having his mind intruded upon.

In other circumstances, his stomach wouldn’t drop at the thought of rekindling an argument with Kylo.

“You’re projecting. I can’t help it.” Kylo stepped forward, only to hesitate when he was fully into the room. “You’re nervous,” he stated cautiously.

Hux watched him lick his lips nervously. Watched as he shifted on his feet.

The distance between them was too big.

Hux didn’t respond. He stood up, going around his desk so that it would no longer be between them. “You should be resting.”

He tried so very hard to keep his tone gentle.

Kylo must have seen it; his shoulders relaxed noticeable, his lips twitched in an echo of a smile. He even managed a shrug. “The doctor cleared me.”

“Did you threaten him?”

“You told me not to.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Kylo said nothing. That was all but an admission of guilt.

Hux was deliberating between exasperation and fondness when his com rang.

“Supreme Warlord,” said the head of his security. “The delegates have arrived.”

“I’ll be there shortly.” He hung up without waiting for a reply.

Kylo was looking at him expectantly.

Hux held out his hand. “Stand by my side. You don’t belong in the back.”

He almost collapsed with relief when Kylo took it.

They didn’t walk hand in hand the entire way; as soon as they reached a more crowded area, their hands separated. Though not before Hux’s thumb brushed against Kylo’s knuckles.

Kylo glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes, and smirked.

Hux felt his shoulders loosen, his chin lift ever so slightly as satisfaction flooded him. The shared gesture felt like a small triumph between the two of them.

A secret victory before he stepped forward and faced Organa and her people once more.

The group of Republicans stood in the entrance hall of the main building, where they had obviously been instructed to wait. With them were the few low-ranking soldiers Hux had assigned as their escort and Silais, who was uncharacteristically discreet.

“Organa,” he greeted as he entered the room, and was to see her startle ever so slightly as he came in unannounced. He turned towards the Jedi, who much less satisfyingly was bearing a neutrally calm expression. “Skywalker.”

“Hux,” Organa greeted him with the bare minimum of decorum, looking at him not a second longer than she needed to before her eyes shifted towards Kylo.

Hux forced himself to keep his eyes straight on the delegation, no matter how much he itched to see Kylo’s reaction.

Being able to keep his emotions in check while Organa’s all but displayed hers gave him an upper hand.

His gaze trailed over the delegation. “I don’t recognize all of you,” he said as his eyes settled on a small brown-haired woman – the pilot, he surmised. “I am not in the habit of tolerating unknowns on my base.”

Organa’s smile was tight-lipped and utterly humorless. “But you need our help, so I imagine you will discover worlds of leeway within yourself.”

Hux’s eyes narrowed.

Organa’s chin lifted.

Behind him, Kylo shifted audibly.

And then the pilot stepped forward. “I’m Rey,” she announced much more loudly than necessary.

She was obviously trying to break some of the tension. She was successful: all eyes abandoned their hostile stares in favor of resting upon her, in various shades of disapproval or suspicion. (Or in the Jedi’s case, mild amusement.)

She seemed oblivious to it all, continuing her introduction smoothly. “I’m Ben’s cousin.”

“It’s Kylo.”

Hux had expected more anger coming from his lover; Maker knows he had been less than patient when his mother persisted in using his old name.

Yet for the pilot, all he had was a soft voice and a mildly forceful tone. Hux couldn’t keep himself from looking back this time, and was faced with a woefully unfamiliar expression.

Kylo’s eyebrows were furrowed, but not in anger. They spoke of scrutiny, bordering on confusion. His lips were pursed as if in frustration.

And his eyes, the most expressive of his features, were nothing short of melancholic.

It was strange. Hux hated it.

Rey stared back for a long while, before nodding solemnly. “Right. Sorry.”

Kylo didn’t acknowledge her apology. He kept on staring.

Hux very much wanted to make him stop.

Skywalker beat him to it.

“Hello, Kylo.”

The softness faded from Kylo completely. In its place was an expression just as complicated as the first, but with shades of hostility and wariness that Hux much preferred.

“Master Skywalker.”

Skywalker’s face turned sad; it made him look so old. “You do not have to call me Master.”

Hux resisted the urge to grind his teeth. Was that remark a reference to Hux’s position? Was Skywalker attempting the same moralization Organa had pulled the first time she came? It was barely any subtler.

Hux couldn’t tell for sure.

He wanted to strangle Skywalker anyway.

After a long moment, Kylo’s shoulders relaxed slightly. He inclined his head, the movement stiff but still deferent. “I look forward to learning from you.”

Skywalker, in what was apparently a family tradition, stared back. His gaze was scrutinizing, and still sad, but unmistakably fond. When he inclined his head, the gesture was nothing short of benevolent. “I look forward to teaching you.”

Besides him, Rey smiled. Organa looked relieved.

This had gone on long enough, Hux suddenly decided. They were in a public setting; were Hux’s people to stop and stare, they would have a full view at Kylo’s emotionally charged interaction with the adversary.

The Supreme Warlord’s right hand in less than perfect alignment with the party line, and the Supreme Warlord just standing there and watching.

He had been remiss in not putting a stop at this display earlier.

“There is little point in us just standing here,” he announced sharply, straightening his spine. “Dagna will show you to your rooms, and-”

“I would like to see Poe,” Organa cut him off. Her expression was closed off as she turned towards him. “I trust that he isn’t harmed.”

 “He’s fine,” Kylo interjected before Hux could reply.

Organa glanced at him, before forcing her eyes back towards Hux. “I would like to see it for myself.”

“Is my word not good enough for you?” Hux asked sweetly. “So far, only one party has been less than reliable.”

To her credit, Organa didn’t react to the barb. “I need to speak with Poe,” she repeated deliberately, once again falling back on cold politeness. “I would appreciate it if you could show him to my room.”

Hux smiled without warmth. “If you insist.” He gestured towards the exit. “Shall we?”

By some miracle, there were no further protest.

Hux had no intention to play escort the entire way through. However, there was some merit in keeping up a semblance of hospitality. At the very least, it would give Organa less leverage to argue and spare him many headaches.

He relaxed, preparing himself for a tense but otherwise uneventful walk through the halls of his own compound.

He had, of course, completely forgotten about Kylo’s injury.

Around two thirds of the way, Kylo’s breathing became heavier. His steps became more sluggish, until he tripped over his own feet and had to catch himself on the wall.

Hux turned around to see him with his eyes clenched, clutching at his side in pain. The wound hadn’t reopened, at least, but that did little to calm Hux’s anger.

He was going to _kill_ the doctor that had discharged him. And then he was going to tie Kylo to the bed himself.

“B… Kylo!” Organa rushed to his side, hand reached out to check his injury. She stopped herself at the last second, letting her arm fall to her side. She looked at her son in worry. “Are you alright?”

Kylo growled at her concern. “Go find _Dameron_ ,” he spat out. He straightened his spine to salvage his pride; the effort it took him to do so was obvious. “I imagine you were very worried about him.”

“He’s not the only one I’m worried about.”

“He’s the only one who needs it.”

Organa swallowed, obviously deliberating her answer. Perhaps she didn’t wish to display her family drama so openly, but then again it wasn’t as if said drama hadn’t been _very_ public last time. “You’re injured,” she said simply, infusing worlds of meaning within those two words.

Kylo looked away. “It’s fine.”

“You should be resting.”

Hux rolled his eyes. “Believe me, I’ve tried to persuade him many times before.” His exasperation wasn’t even put upon. “It is impossible to make him do what he doesn’t want to.”

Organa shot him a look that was inches away from a glare. “I would never dream to. I simply care about his wellbeing.”

“And I can decide for myself what that consist of.”

Kylo’s voice was loud and steady as he spoke, conveying certitude rather than defensiveness. It was probably more than a little put upon, but Hux chose not to question it. Instead, he chose to focus on the satisfaction and relief as Kylo came up to him and took his hand.

“I don’t need help,” his lover said, his face bearing the same cool and distant confidence that Organa had borne so many times. He looked very much like her.

Yet he was standing at Hux’s side.

Hux squeezed Kylo’s hand; he couldn’t help but smile when Kylo squeezed back.

He waited for Organa’s reply. Instead, she inhaled deeply, and said nothing.

They could finish on a high note then. With his free hand, he made a discreet gesture towards Dagna.

Dagna, clever woman, picked up on it immediately.

“If you would follow me, I will show you to your rooms.”

Against expectations, they left, wisely choosing not to put a fight. Skywalker puts a hand on Organa’s shoulder, whispering something in her ear. Rey turned around one last time, but followed as well.

There was only one matter left to attend to.

“Silais,” Hux called out, smiling sweetly when the Twi’lek turned around. “A word?”

Silais had been so quiet until then it would have been easy to forget he was there. How disappointed he must be to be called upon now.

“What may I do for you, Supreme Warlord?” he said with the same exuberance he put behind his words. The effect was ruined by the stiffness of his smile and the tension around his eyes. 

Hux smiled, and answered airily. “Nothing much. I just wish to thank you for your dedication in bringing reinforcement.”

Silais’ smile never wavered, but Hux knew his meaning was understood. “It was nothing.”

“It was _insightful_. I will be sure to call upon you in the future.”

Hux let his eyes grow colder as he spoke, so that there would be no misunderstanding.

Lady Hux’s protection had allowed him to get away with far too much. That would change, now that Hux had something to lord over him.

 “Of course,” Silais answered with a smile that was a bit too wide to be sincere. Sensing that Hux’s point was made, he gave a quick bow and hurried out of sight; no doubt was he off to see Lady Hux to salvage his situation as best he could.

Kylo snorted.

Hux felt worlds of tension ease from his shoulders.

_This._ This was what they were.

The smirks and the laughter, the threats and the conquest. The two of them together through small battles and great ones, and the joy they took in it.

The Supreme Warlord and his fearsome first warrior. A pair known throughout the galaxy.

They were on top of the world.

And they would fight to keep it that way.

Hux stretched his palm out towards Kylo, looking at him with half-lidded eyes and a slowly stretching smile.

“Come back to the room with me?”

Kylo smirked fondly, took it, and allowed Hux to lead them to their quarters.

As soon as the door closed, Hux dragged Kylo into a kiss.

It was slow, all gentle touches and soft sounds. Kylo’s injury wouldn’t have allowed for anything else, and moreover, now wasn’t the time for the frantic and passionate embrace they were more accustomed to.

All he needed right now was to feel Kylo against him, feel the warmth of him and the steadiness of his breathing.

Kylo pulling apart to nuzzle Hux’s neck, kissing the pulse point and exhaling slowly told Hux that Kylo felt the same.

Hux sighed in relief against Kylo’s hair. Kylo echoed it, then pulled him into another kiss and onto the couch.

It was a bit too narrow to accommodate them both, which meant that Hux ended up lying on top of Kylo’s chest, his head tucked under Kylo’s chin. The position suited him just fine.

He sighed again.

Such exhausting days they had had. So many more to come.

They both needed this so much.

Hux didn’t know how long they laid there, breathing slightly out of sync and occasionally pulling themselves up for another kiss. He didn’t care.

He could have stayed like this forever.

Kylo was the one who broke the silence.

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he murmured against Hux’s hair. His hands hadn’t stopped stroking his back. “You know that, right?”

Hux felt a spark of unease at the call-back to their argument. “I know,” he murmured back, trying to hold onto the warm contentment he had been feeling so far. He traced his fingers over Kylo’s chest, and couldn’t help digging them into the fabric of his shirt.  “You wouldn’t leave me.”

Kylo chuckled, kissing Hux’s hair before tapping the manacles on his wrists. “I couldn’t if I tried.”

And just like that, Hux felt his soul freeze.

Kylo had meant it as an endearment, as a joke. A small mix of both between the two of them, like they had done countless of times before.

But all Hux heard…

_I couldn’t if I tried. If I tried, I couldn’t. If I tried, I would fail._

_Because I am manacled. Because I am chained, trapped, and if only I could try then what would you do how would you stop me wouldyoueventrywouldyouwould-_

Hux buried his face in Kylo’s chest, and desperately tried to will the nausea away.

 

 


End file.
